“You should go.” Her voice shook. “Now.”
“Mo—”
“Please.”
I took a step towards her and another, and another, until I was inches from her face.
Make it real! Phoenix’s voice blared in my head. “You have to make them believe it or you’re sentencing them all to death.”
“Fine,” I seethed, baring my teeth. “Wear whatever you want it’s not like I care anyways. You were just a little crush… something to…” I grinned, hating myself. “Pass the time with. But now that I’ve had you… hell, who cares if they all want to try a sample.”
With a cry she slapped me across the face once then backhanded me. I let her. Better she hate me, better she believe me, better she be alive.
“I hate you.”
I leaned in until our lips almost touched. “Good.”
She stormed past me in tears. I leaned against the counter, letting my head fall slack as my stomach churned with anger and sadness.
“Ouch,” Phoenix said behind me. “I didn’t say to destroy her, just to make her believe it.”
“Not now.” I snapped.
“Bee’s hanging out with Trace and Mil. You better hope they don’t get their claws too deep. Oh, and Nixon wanted me to tell you it’s time for dinner. The men want you to say the prayer.”
I snorted. Right, I was going to talk to God in front of the men I was supposed to kill; that wasn’t sacrilegious, no, not at all.
“May God have mercy on my soul,” I muttered.
“He better…” Phoenix followed me out of the room. “Because I’ve done way worse than you and I’m still hopeful that I won’t rot in Hell.”
“Aren’t we all?” I breathed taking in each of the faces I was going to eventually betray. “Aren’t we all?”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
The Cosa Nostra asks only two things, loyalty and silence. How appropriate considering one would die without both.
Tex
I WENT INTO THE DINING room expecting to sit next to Nixon, not to my horror, to be seated at the head of the table. Damn, but they were already grooming me; preparing me for the role I never asked for but had no choice to take.
With confidence that felt so fake I wanted to roar, I made my way to the head of the table and stood, taking time to glance at every face. Around forty people were seated at the table. From made men in the Nicolasi clan to associates, to the Alferos.
And they were all looking to me—even Nixon. Though his gaze could be considered more of a mild curiosity than anything. Damn, but I would have loved for him to bust my ass and boss me around at that point, but he’d been right earlier. They all had. Stepping up was the only choice to keep everyone safe, so he wasn’t interfering, and I both hated and loved him for it.
“Omerta, my men of honor.” I lifted my wine glass. “It is humbling to sit before you, to take my birthright back from the grips of insanity, to claim what’s been rightfully mine for over twenty years. I pledge my loyalty, will you also toast to yours?”
Every glass lifted.
Sealed.
Done.
Even Mo, with shaking hands had lifted her glass, and it freaking killed me inside to watch her toast to something so menacing. It was like cheering for the dark side knowing damn well the story wasn’t going to have a happily ever after.
“Salud!” The men cheered.
I sat as plates were passed around. My gaze couldn’t help but flicker to Mo, but each time I looked at her, she was drawn into herself.
That is until Sergio made her laugh. Again.
Then touched her leg. Once, twice, a third time.
I gripped my fork.
“You alright?” Luca whispered from my left. “If I was a suspicious man I’d say you were… jealous?”
“Luca.” I turned to him, my eyes cold as death. “Shut the hell up before I stab you with my steak knife.”
His grin was wide and unwavering. “Campsi’s, so blood thirsty.”
“Nicolasi’s, so… strategic,” I hinted.
His hand paused mid-air, his wine lifted to his lips but he didn’t sip. “If you mean to accuse me of something, speak plainly.”
I shrugged. “Just… observing.”
“And what do you see? Hmm?”
Phoenix said we could trust Luca… I hated that he was probably right, because I really didn’t like the guy. In fact, I wouldn’t shed a tear if he suffered a stroke, heartless or not, the guy was… slick.
“I see an alternate ending,” I said quietly. “One I control.”
“And if you lose that control?”
“Then we all lose.”
“And if you win?” His eyes took on a dark hue as he leaned forward, his dark hair in direct contrast to his bright eyes. “What happens then?”
“Your plan succeeds.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Bravo.”
“Luca?” Frank asked from across the table.
“Lovely wine, just… the perfect amount of spice, don’t you think gentleman?”
I lifted my glass and stole another glance at Mo. Sergio was touching her hair—again.
And then he wiped something from her face.
I let out a growl and threw my napkin onto the table.
Nobody paid attention to me, but Mo saw the movement, so did Sergio.
I couldn’t make a scene, but I was about to. I was three seconds away from ruining everything because the bastard couldn’t keep his hands to himself.