Ruthless Princess

by Van Dyken , Rachel

  “Because.” I pinched her sensitive skin and grinned. “I want to watch.”

  She didn’t hold back.

  And I didn’t stop watching.

  It was burned in my brain, the way she responded to my mouth, my hands.

  With a shudder, she finally sat up, pulled the crown from her head and placed it on mine, and with a smug grin said. “It’s my turn to serve.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Serena

  I told myself I wouldn’t fall asleep in his arms.

  And I did exactly that after we physically exhausted each other.

  Junior’s arm was heavy around my body as he held me possessively with his left, while the right was tucked under his head like a pillow. His hair was mussed like a halo around his head, even though it was shaved on the sides, the top was so long it flopped to the side and looked so ridiculously sexy even in his sleep, that I wanted to throat punch him.

  His full lips parted as he sighed and pulled me closer.

  The eagle tattoo on his neck seemed darker this close up; actually all his tattoos seemed darker. I started tracing the Nicolasi crest on his chest when he suddenly gripped my hand, his eyes flashing open. “Shit.”

  “What?” My heart almost stopped.

  “We fell asleep.” His eyes searched mine. “I’m sorry,” he groaned and then stretched his arms above his head, making the muscles in his abs clench and damn I wanted to lick my way up while working him into another sex-fueled frenzy.

  “Stop looking at me like that.” His voice was low, sleepy, so sexy that I couldn’t help but spread my hands across his chest and then dig my nails in.

  A throat cleared.

  Without thinking, I reached for the gun on my nightstand at about the same time Junior did the same, both of us aiming toward the throat clearing by the door.

  “Fuck, man.” Junior lowered his gun. “How long have you been standing there?”

  Ash shrugged, running his hands through his thick whiskey-colored hair before leaning against the dresser. “I was sitting at one point… I think.”

  “You think?” I said incredulously. “Ash, are you—”

  His blue eyes flashed to mine. Hurt. Pain. So much pain that I wanted to look away, I wanted to take it all away. “Do. Not. Ask. If. I’m. Okay.”

  I held up my hands and gulped while his bright blue eyes locked onto Junior like some sort of understanding was passing between them.

  “What’s going on?” Junior finally asked, leaning back against the headboard, appearing way more relaxed than I felt since the assassin of the group, aka Chase’s son, had just caught us in bed naked.

  If this had happened before, I would have had a gunshot to the head. I wasn’t stupid back then; immature yes, stupid no. I’d just had no idea Ash would do anything to keep us safe, including listening to Chase when he said to break us up.

  Ash’s eyes were wild as he shoved away from the dresser and started pacing back and forth. I didn’t realize he had a knife in his hand until he used it to scratch the back of his neck like it was normal to use the point of a dagger to get the job done.

  Junior gripped my thigh under the sheets in warning.

  And I knew what that warning was.

  Ash was either about to go crazy, or he needed us.

  Both did not bode well for our current naked situation.

  I stared blankly ahead. Trying to mask the fear lurking beneath my skin at the thought that my final moments in this world would be my cousin seeing me naked in my best friend’s arms while he slit my throat.

  Asher finally stopped pacing and then moved down until he was resting his arms on his haunches. He didn’t look up. “I need a favor.”

  Not what I expected. I almost breathed a sigh of relief.

  Junior’s grip on my thigh deepened. “Anything you need, brother.”

  Ash slowly lifted his head. His eyes were wild, and then as if a switch had been flipped, a calmness descended over him. His shoulders relaxed, his lips pressed into a firm line. “I need you to swear fealty to me. Loyalty to me and me alone as the heir to the Abandonato Family.”

  I stilled. “What?”

  Both of us were heirs, but technically Ash’s blood was purer than mine because a long time ago… people fell in love, then they fell into hate and cheated, and the result? My dad and Chase almost being closer than cousins.

  Ash sighed. “Each of us will be bosses or underbosses one day, one way or another. But I need you to swear fealty to me as your leader. I need you to make a blood oath to sacrifice yourself for me. To keep our secrets.” He was quiet and then. “To create a new family line within the families.”

  It was death.

  It wasn’t done.

  And it wasn’t just frowned upon, it was a slap in the face to the bosses, to our fathers who protected us, bled for us.

  It was a slap in the face to me since I was the heir, but that wasn’t exactly true, because we all knew that the true heir had always been Chase, which meant Asher was next in line if I chose to hand over my crown.

  A peace washed over me as I realized it was exactly what needed to be done in order to protect myself—in order to protect our future. A leader was needed, and I’d been leading so long that I was sick with it.

  For the first time in my life, I wanted to follow.

  And I wanted to choose Junior despite the expectations that were thrown on us.

  Even though this wasn’t right, I realized I would do it. Because if I kept Ash’s secrets.

  He kept mine.

  Protect the kingdom at all costs, right?

  Heavy was the crown that Ash would wear, and even heavier? The keys, the secrets that our new kings would carry.

  Junior must have had the same thought because his next words were, “Did you set us up? Hope to find us like this, so we had no choice?”

  “Yes.” Ash didn’t even hesitate as he clenched his jaw and lifted his chin in defiance. “But even if I didn’t. You owe me. You fucking owe me. And you owe Claire!”

  “You’re right,” I whispered as guilt slid around my neck and squeezed until I almost stopped breathing. “What about the others.”

  “Waiting for my text,” he rasped.

  “So the kids, the next generation…” Junior bit his lower lip and shook his head like he was trying to put it all together. “We create our own alliance.”

  “The Elect,” Ash whispered. “We are what they made us. And we protect our own. This is our way of making our promises, our bond, just as powerful as that to each of our families. And in the end, if you have to choose, you choose each other.”

  It was madness.

  It was blasphemy.

  It was right.

  A tear slid down my cheek. “You ask us to swear our lives to you over our own blood promises to our fathers?”

  “They can co-exist,” Ash said in a harsh voice. “I just need to know that no matter what, you’re fucking with me.”

  “No matter what,” Junior repeated thickly, “we are with you.”

  The next few minutes went by in a blur as I quickly got dressed and pulled my hair into a ponytail.

  Ash turned toward the door and texted King, Breaker, Maxim, Violet, Kartini, and Izzy.

  And one by one, they all came to the guest room.

  A room I’d just made love in.

  Ironic, how minutes later, we would start a war.

  Ash held a blade over his hand and sliced as drops of blood fell to the hardwood floor in slow motion.

  “Our kingdom,” he said through clenched teeth. “Our rules.”

  “Our kingdom. Our rules,” we all repeated.

  He passed the knife around as each of us made a cut across our palms.

  And as we all stood there holding our bloody hands, Ash locked eyes with us and said. “This is our clean slate. May the sins of our fathers—” He shared a look with Junior. “Be forgiven. Amen.”

  “Amen,” I murmured.

  Each of us shook ha
nds across our wounds.

  And when it was all done.

  I turned to my cousin and fucking bowed.

  Chapter Thirty

  Junior

  Nobody asked the older cousins anything when we all asked to crash at Nixon’s a second night in a row.

  They didn’t know that we’d made a blood oath to let Ash lead us into the future, our future.

  The bosses didn’t know that the very monsters they were trying to keep at bay—had just been set free by the tip of Ash’s knife, by the blood of Claire’s death.

  We needed each other.

  But we also needed a plan of action because as much as I knew Ash was losing his shit—he was right. We couldn’t go on carrying the sins of our fathers, and we couldn’t go on punishing innocent people out of fear.

  We’d always been known as the Elect. Some said we were a secret society; others knew we were mafia.

  Last night, we had become both.

  An almost religious experience had happened between all of us as we’d realized that we couldn’t do this alone, and we couldn’t do this with the bosses constantly breathing down our backs.

  We had to have our own rules. Our own terms.

  Or we wouldn’t survive.

  We would end up just like Claire.

  That morning, the ride to school felt different.

  For the first time since going to Eagle Elite, we rode in two SUVs.

  For the first time since enrolling, we all packed, no matter what.

  And for the first time since stepping foot on campus—I fucking held my girlfriend’s hand.

  Because the blood bond between all of us trumped the one I’d given her own father.

  I had my family.

  I was looking at them.

  I had my future.

  I was holding her hand.

  We made our own rules.

  Because death made it so you didn’t give a fuck anymore.

  For the first time since I could remember, I smiled as I walked to class with my princess by my side.

  It was turning out to be the perfect day—until lunch happened, and Annie, as she always had with Claire, tried to come up to Ash and talk to him.

  “Hey!” I pulled Ash away from her. “Cool off, man, give it some time.”

  “It’s your fault!” Ash roared.

  Annie flinched and then ducked behind Tank, who was trying to mediate the out-of-control situation while the rest of us waited for the inevitable, for Ash to snap and for Annie to cry or just run in the opposite direction.

  Instead, she shocked the shit out of me, jerked away from Tank, marched right up to Ash, and slapped him across the face shouting. “You have no idea what you’re talking about! She was my friend! The only person who offered to help me.”

  “Help?” Ash roared. “How the hell did she help you!?”

  With tears streaming down her face, Annie pulled off her cardigan and tossed it to the ground, stomping all over it like it pissed her off.

  I wanted to make a joke about how relieved Ash should be, and then I froze when I saw the bruises on her arms, bruises that were covered by the sleeves of her cardigan in the hospital.

  Ash completely paled. “Annie, what the hell?”

  “No.” Her lower lip trembled. “You don’t get to give me that look. She was helping me. Trying to get me s-safe from them! And now…” She sniffed. “Now—”

  Ash just stood there while Tank pulled Annie into his arms and hugged her. I couldn’t fathom what had given her that many bruises, but I was ready to kill someone.

  And by the looks of Ash and the rest of the guys… they were in.

  Some of the De Lange kids witnessed the exchange with fear in their eyes, and then I just wondered what the hell we were doing with our lives if we weren’t protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves.

  I slammed my hand down on the park bench before I could stop myself and screamed. “WHO!”

  Annie jumped a foot. “Wh-what?”

  “Who did this?”

  She gulped, her face white. “Leave it alone.”

  “No.” Ash took a tentative step toward her and then, in an eerily possessive voice, whispered, “Tell me who touched you so I can break their hands off. Tell me who marred your skin so I can mar their faces. Tell us so we can fix this; otherwise, I’m going to start randomly beating up people who look like pieces of shit who feed off of innocent women.”

  She gulped and seemed to pull into herself as she whispered. “My adoptive dad was always nice to my adoptive mom, really nice and then…”

  Ash shook his head, grabbed his gun, handed it to a confused Annie, and said, “You get the right to kill him. We’ll cover it up.”

  “What? NO. I could never!” Annie tried to hand the gun back. But Ash wouldn’t have it; instead, he pulled her into his arms and whispered something I will never forget.

  “To be who you’re meant to be—you must. When power’s taken—it must be stolen back.”

  In minutes, both Escalades were pulling up.

  Thirteen of the De Langes watched us prepare for war. I wondered if they understood what was happening.

  And then one by one, each of them walked up to Asher, put a shaky hand on his shoulder, and kissed his right cheek, only to walk past him and into the waiting SUVs. We didn’t have room for everyone, which Tank solved by driving his truck.

  Did Ash realize how dangerous this new alliance would be if his father found out? How dangerous it would be for all of us when the kids realized there was no out once you were in?

  Pride filled my chest as every De Lange kid got in. They weren’t even fucking armed, but they had their pride, they wore it like armor.

  And without using words.

  They swore their alliance, their allegiance.

  To the next generation.

  To the Elect.

  To us.

  We had successfully done something that our parents had failed at. We’d given them something to fight for.

  We’d given them a reason to fight in the first place.

  And we’d given them a leader.

  I just hoped like hell that when our dads eventually found out, they didn’t see us as a threat—but a savior.

  Annie gave us directions to her house and after arguing with a pissed off Ash, stayed in the car shaking while Serena held her in her arms, some of the other De Lange girls handed her Kleenex while Ash walked in to scout the house with Tank.

  When they came back, both of them had empty expressions.

  They just got into the car and wordlessly drove every single person back to Nixon’s house.

  I gripped Serena’s hand and watched in awe as the gates opened.

  And as we let the very “evil” that our parents had tried to destroy.

  The very evil that lived in my soul.

  Inside the kingdom.

  And for one fleeting moment, I had hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, the King who’d just crowned me—would kneel instead of drawing his sword.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Serena

  The house was quiet. The suits that always waited around the house watched us with horror on their faces, and yet they did nothing.

  Because they couldn’t lift a finger to mafia royalty unless the bosses allowed it.

  So, in we marched, with the enemy of our fathers shaking next to us.

  Wordlessly, Junior and I marched ahead and opened up the door to the basement.

  “Downstairs,” Junior barked.

  I nodded to him as they all filed down, our own private army, our new family.

  The Family of the Elect.

  One by one, they made their way into the basement near the ring, Asher and King held up the back of the group.

  The door to the basement locked with a resounding click.

  And there we stood, lined up in front of them like the generals we were. Ash, me, and Junior in the middle. Maksim, Breaker, King, and Tank on the outside, with Izzy, Annie, and Violet i
n the middle.

  “You know why you’re here,” Ash said in a harsh voice, his face twisted with pain as he looked at each of them, four girls, eight guys.

  I pulled out my gun and held it lowered in front of me.

  “Yes.” One of them stepped forward; he looked like he was my age, his eyes flickered to mine and then to Asher. “We want in.”

  “The minute you got in that car,” Junior said with a smirk. “You already were…” He took a step forward and held out his dagger. “Kneel.”

  Shit.

  The guy’s jaw flexed, and then he very slowly lowered to his knees as Junior held the knife over his head. With a grimace, Junior dug the knife into his palm and sprinkled the blood over the guy’s bent head.

  “Who do you answer to?” Junior barked.

  “You,” the guy yelled.

  “WHO!” Junior screamed, this time getting in his face. It was a moment I won’t ever forget a moment where a switch was flipped, maybe a moment where blood recognized blood.

  The guy looked up into Junior’s face and whispered, “The true heir and our true boss.”

  Junior sucked in a sharp breath, and in an instant, I saw a family line go from being cut out—to being reborn.

  And the ultimate betrayal to our fathers…

  Began.

  Every single person swore their loyalty to the De Lange-Nicolasi line, and then to Ash as our leader.

  I was emotionally exhausted by the time everything was done. I mean, how did someone explain the rules of the mafia to kids who had only grown up knowing they had to hide from the very thing that created them? The very blood that called to them? Screamed for vengeance from the ground.

  “We have a slight problem,” Breaker said once we’d made the formal introductions and basically told them we owned the very blood that ran through their veins.

  “Slight?” I almost laughed.

  “Oh, this?” He waved his hand around. “This is a big problem, not talking about this. I’m talking about the fact that none of them know how to fight.”

  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.