I grip the door harder, willing the universe to give me all of her pain.
I stare at the tiny image of her on my phone as her nightmare gets worse.
r /> No. Please, no. Make it stop.
Tears. Tears cascade down my cheeks, flooding my face. Running over my lips and off my chin.
I’ve never been a man who cries, but for her, I cry. I don’t care if the emotions make me weak. Before her, I thought the tears and emotions made me a pussy. Made me weak. But I realize now my love for her makes me stronger than I’ve ever been before. Maybe if I’d given in to the feelings after our first encounter in that bar, I would have saved her from all of this.
But I didn’t. And I don’t get a do-over. I don’t get to turn back time and save her.
She went through hell.
Now it’s my turn.
I sit silently outside her door—my hell. The fire consumes me as I watch her slowly come out of her nightmare. Langston protects her with his body. I’ve never been jealous of Langston before, but I am now. I wish I were him. I wish I could feel her in my arms again. Just one more time.
Instead, I suffer alone.
Tomorrow this could end. I could win the final game. I could become Mr. Black. I could take over the empire as I was always destined to. And then I would have the power to protect her.
I would send Langston and a dozen of my best men to protect her. And then I would send her far away from here. I would hide her, even from myself because as long as I knew where she was, I would come for her. My love is too great to stay away. And I’m her greatest enemy. I have to give her up. But when the time comes, will I have the strength to do it?
6
KAI
I GO THROUGH THE MOTIONS.
I shower.
I get dressed.
I eat breakfast.
But my heart isn’t really in it. I don’t want to win the game; I just want this to be over.
All of it.
I stand in front of the mirror, gripping my flat stomach that will soon hold a bump. How long can I keep this a secret? How much time will it take for my little baby to be visible?
I try not to ignore the game, but that’s all I could think about last night.
The last game gave me a broken leg, a dislocated shoulder, and more stab wounds. Enzo faired worse—almost dying.
Either one of us could have died during that game. It was by far the most dangerous either of us has faced so far. My father created that game.
What will be coming now that Enzo’s father created this next chapter?
Whatever the game is, it will be far more dangerous than any of the previous. And unlike every other time, my only focus is on surviving.
I walk out of the bedroom and find everyone on the main deck of the yacht. I notice land in the distance. Not just any land, my home—Miami.
Miami may have been my home, but it’s not a place I plan on staying in when this is all over. Miami has not treated any of us well.
An ominous feeling settles on the group as I walk closer. All of us are exhausted; we just what this over. We are tired and weary and don’t want to fight anymore.
Maybe it can be over?