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I gaped. “Wait, none of them?”

“Watch.” He whistled one of the guys over. “Matt, throw a punch.”

Matt had his hair buzzed short to his head, baby skin with no tattoos, and green eyes that looked so innocent I wondered if he was going to burst into tears.

“Uhh…” He rocked back on his feet and then sloppily threw a right hook.

Breaker moved out of the way and shoved him to the floor then sighed. “See? What good is an army if they’ve never learned how to throw a punch?”

“Maybe if they’d had parents who taught them…” Tank said, all passive-aggressively next to us.

I glared. “Point made.”

He held up his hands. “Just saying…”

“We’ll train them,” I said like it was just that simple, earning irritated looks from all the guys. “What? We can’t train here, I mean obviously, but we can train at the spot, turn it from party central to, mafia base.”

“Ash?” Junior looked to him. “What do you think?”

“I think once the parents find out we did this, we may need to hide out for a few days anyway.” He sighed. “Until then, let’s get everyone out of here before Nixon calls all of the bosses, and we have a blood bath. Best to tell them to their faces than to tell them to—”

The sound of the basement door opening was our only clue.

And then footsteps.

Several.

They were hard.

Purposeful.

Angry.

And slow.

Junior shoved me behind him while Ash did the same to the girls. The De Langes looked ready to shit themselves—as they should, and they stood in the very back. I mean it wasn’t like we were going to be able to hide much, plus you could smell the fear, it had this metallic shimmer in the air that seemed to somehow make it harder to breathe the closer the footsteps got.

My dad was first. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his black pants almost casual looking, as his eyes flashed in my direction.

Part of me almost laughed, because if he thought this was pissed, then well, just ask me who I had in my mouth last night.

Or was that morning?

Junior cleared his throat ahead of me.

Phoenix was next. I knew he had flown back. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked at us with such disappointment and rage, I could feel Junior flinch beside me.

Tex and Sergio filed in behind them.

And then Dante and Chase flanked each of their sides. It was a little alarming that Andrei had also shown up with Vic, one of Chase’s number one men, and what was even more alarming?

My grandpa Frank stood with them, and next to him, my uncle Luca Nicolasi, who we hadn’t seen in at least a decade. He’d gone into hiding years ago along with my Grandpa Frank, but at least I knew Grandpa was still around; he sent me cards on my birthday even though he’d disappeared.

“So, this is a fun family reunion,” Breaker said under his breath.

I shot him a look. “Could you not be you right now?”

He winked. “What can they do? Shoot us?”

“Yes,” Junior and Asher said in unison, not making me feel at all better about the anger directed at us.

The funeral for Claire was to take place in one more day.

And I had to wonder—would our caskets be joining hers?

“Serena!” My dad barked my name so loudly that I jumped in place.

But I didn’t move.

I lifted my chin in defiance. “Yes?”

“Come here now.”

I gave him a sad smile. “I can’t do that.”

“You’d make me shoot through you, then?” he asked innocently.

“If that’s what it takes,” I said in a strong voice. “But I’m not standing here to play human shield; I just have to defer to someone else right now.”

“Defer. To. Someone. Else,” he repeated slowly. “And who is this someone else?”

“Me.” Asher took a step forward, and the ripple of shock that went through the group of men would have been hilarious had they not all been armed.

Chase’s eyes were wild. “What the hell have you done?”

“What you didn’t,” he snapped. “I offered them a choice.”

Chase roared, “You have no idea—” and then stopped himself. “No idea what sort of betrayal this is. Bringing that filth into Nixon’s home! Into the safety of these walls, you had no right to even ask them to join the ranks! That right goes to the boss! And that line is officially dead!”

“You can’t kill blood that still flows,” Junior spoke up. “Trust me; I’ve tried.”

A shadow crossed Phoenix’s face, but Junior kept talking. “Right, Dad? You can’t forget who you are, whose you are, no matter how many times you fucking change your name.”

“Enough!” Chase snapped.

“You want us to be our own people, but only if we follow your rules. Well…” Ash shrugged. “Your rules suck. So, we created our own. We’ll stay loyal to the Family, to our bloodlines, to all of our bloodlines.”


Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime