“My girlfriend’s dead, and I have internal bleeding. Sorry if I’m missing my filter—hell, any filter. I hurt.”
“Yeah, you look like you hurt.” I eyed his bruised body.
“Not here.” Tears filled his eyes. “Here.” He tapped his chest and jerked his head toward the bench where his bag was waiting. “I wrote out her eulogy about a hundred different times, but nothing did her justice, nothing made what I felt for her sound like anything except infatuation, lust, and maybe a bit of love sprinkled in. How do you tell the ignorant that your soul is missing from your body? That you may never get that part of yourself back? That half the time, you just wish the pain would end.”
I pulled him into a tight hug, blood, sweat, and all. “You have nothing to prove to anyone at that funeral tomorrow. All you have to do is honor the life she lived by your side, do that, and you’ll be fine.”
He hugged me tighter. “Will you stand with me?”
My chest and throat grew tight. “I’ll stand with you in life and in death. I’ll stand by your side forever, Ash.”
“No matter what?” he repeated.
I pounded my fist onto his back. “No matter what. Even if the world burns around us. You’ve got me.”
“Same, brother. Same.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Junior
I hated funerals.
They reminded me that life was fleeting.
They also reminded me that I probably wouldn’t live to see my next birthday, especially with how the conversation had gone with Nixon last night, he suspected something.
I would need to be more careful.
My black suit felt tight around me as I waited for Ash to stop puking in the bathroom.
The guy was a mess.
He’d taken one look at the casket and lost it.
Every single one of us had been to the open casket, but he couldn’t do it, he said he wanted to remember what she looked like with real life in her cheeks, with the life of their baby in her body.
None of us had told the rest of the bosses, and I assumed Nikolai kept that silent. It wasn’t his secret to tell, but it also wasn’t Ash’s secret to keep, at least not from her parents.
They, too, would need to mourn, not just Claire, but the baby she and Ash had created.
He’d confessed she was only eight weeks along, but that didn’t matter, did it? That baby had been alive, growing, and now was in heaven with its mom.
Because of someone’s hatred.
That baby never got the chance to see the light of day.
I swallowed the thickness in my throat as I pulled out my flask of whiskey, brought it to my lips, and took one swig when I noticed Violet stumbling out of the girls’ bathroom of the church.
She tugged down her form-fitting black dress and then fixed her hair. She took after Luc, classic beauty that you felt in your soul whenever you looked at her and so damn sweet, I was thankful she was studying medicine and that the bosses gave her a free pass since she’d be the Family doctor one day.
Her full red lips pressed into a secret smile.
I almost waved her over, instead choosing to hide back in my spot around the corner.
A few seconds passed, she looked over her shoulder, and then Breaker was grabbing her ass.
My jaw dropped as she smiled and then told him to be quiet.
His hair was in complete disarray, his shirt unbuttoned by at least three buttons as he tucked it back into his pants.
No. They couldn’t.
I mean, they could.
Was it the funeral?
Emotions were high, people were sad, sex happened probably just as much at funerals as it did at weddings.
Thankfully, we were in a private part of the church that had been sectioned off for security reasons for the Family.
And everyone was already sitting down.
“Hey.” Ash walked out of the bathroom and took my flask, downing two gulps, and getting ready to turn in the very wrong direction.
I wrapped an arm around him and then patted him on the chest, directing him away from Violet and Breaker.
Because the last thing he needed was to murder one of his cousins on the day he had to give his girlfriend’s eulogy.
“You’re tenser than I am.” Clearly, the alcohol was affecting Ash. His eyes were glassy, but he wasn’t swaying yet. He’d get through it, and then I’d knock him out, so it didn’t hurt anymore. Because that’s what brothers did, right? I just wish I could take the pain from him, all of it.
“Yeah well, you know funerals, they make everyone a bit… tense.”
“Yeah,” he croaked.
“You can do this,” I said softly. “I’ll be right by your side.”
“Doing this means goodbye forever.” He barely got the words out. “It means it happened. It means it’s not a bad dream. It means I’m burying them.”
Them.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Do you truly think that with the world we live in, a soul suddenly goes silent because of death?”
“I don’t know anymore.” His voice caught. “But I know it hurts. And my only solace is knowing that at least I get the pain—while they get to rest.”
My heart burned in my chest as I slowly nodded my head in agreement and then walked side by side to the back of the church where Nikolai continued to speak.
Two minutes later, he introduced Ash.
And we walked side by side down the aisle to give her eulogy. To say a final prayer of peace.
And to mourn—his best friend.
My eyes flickered to movement in the back row. All of the De Lange kids were here, some with their adoptive parents.
Slowly but surely, the De Langes, the cut off line, the line that was hated the most, rose to their feet in solidarity as Ash and I walked.
I’d only ever heard of it happening once before.
And it was at Mil De Lange, Chase’s first wife’s funeral. They stood with Chase despite what his wife had done—they stood with Ash now, despite what their blood had done.
And as we walked, all the people in the church rose to their feet, while honoring the ones who fell, honoring the ones left behind, honoring the ones left to pick up the pieces.
And when Ash looked out at the congregation that day, I swear it felt like his crown was finally and firmly pressed onto his head, just like mine.
I’d been baptized in bad blood.
While he’d been baptized in death.
Both moments had created us, formed us, and both moments would define us.
“You can sit,” Ash said boldly into the microphone. “I asked my best friend to stand up here with me because I wasn’t completely sure I could make it through. But more than that, sometimes you just need people you love by your side to remind you that in a world full of hate, love still exists.” The room was so quiet I could hear my own slow breathing as I locked gazes with Serena and refused to look away all the while thinking, let them see who owns my heart, let them see because even in death, I would only ever be… hers.
Ash continued. “All it takes is one second, and life can get ripped from you. I actually had a fight with Claire that morning. She wanted to go shopping, and I wanted to send security with her. She finally won because she was part Russian and absolutely terrifying when she needed to be.”
The room fell into chuckles.
“But I would take that fight over and over again; I would take blood and war and beatings just to hold her one last time. To tell her that I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her. To tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t keep them safe—” His voice cracked. “It’s heavy, that moment when you realize your life isn’t ever going to be the same, when you realize your love created a life you’ll never get the chance to see.”
Serena’s eyes filled with tears. As one spilled over, I still didn’t look away. I couldn’t.
Ash took a minute. “She was pregnant.” The room stilled with tension. “And we were trying to figure out how to navigate
this world, we were shaken with the brutal truth that bringing up kids in this atmosphere is anything but easy, anything but innocent, and we were broken with the absolutely horrifying idea that we would fail, but she reminded me, in a time when I desperately needed it, that our parents succeeded. That they raised up a generation of warriors, of mafia royalty that would forever protect their blood until their last breath. She reminded me who I was, whose blood ran through my veins. She reminded me that fear only steals, makes you powerless, that walking through that fear is what makes you a man.”
“I love you,” Serena mouthed to me.
“You too,” I mouthed back.
Let them see our love.
Let them hate us for it.
I was done. So done.
“I will miss my best friend until my last breath, but I refuse to walk in fear. I refuse to cower. If anything, Claire’s death hasn’t woken the beast. It’s risen within me the sleeping giant that was always there, that just needed a little push from a very wise woman to understand what life meant. I will be forever grateful to the love of my life. And I’ll mourn her until I join her, whenever that may be. Thank you for honoring her today, and thank you for honoring the families by your presence.” He looked out to the crowd and took a deep breath then finished with. “Blood in. No Out… except death.”
“Blood in.” The congregation responded. “No out.”
“Amen,” Ash whispered.
I released the breath I’d been holding and looked to my right as we made our way back down the stairs to our seats, and what I saw chilled me to the bone.
Nixon looked from me to Serena silently crying in her seat, and then back at me. It was a moment when I should have ducked my head, or rolled my eyes, done anything except what I did.
Fucking stare him down and challenge him for the treasure in his kingdom.
Her.
I was supposed to sit with my family, but in that moment, I made a choice, one I should have made all those years ago when Ash broke us apart.
Today.
Today. I would choose Serena Abandonato.
And I would do it knowing my moments were counted, my seconds numbered, knowing I was choosing her, the way I was choosing my own death.
Trace gaped at me in shock as I stared Nixon down and sidestepped him, then sat next to his daughter and held her hand.
Chase turned over his shoulder and shot me a nod of approval, but my dad, my dad looked at me like he was going to lose me. I didn’t realize my mom was crying into her hands until he put his arm around her to keep her from making any noise.
They’d seen everything.
They knew.
And I would pay the ultimate price.
Down into the darkness, I walked with my princess by my side, toward blood, beatings, uncertainty in utter blindness. And never had I felt so happy.
“Why?” Serena whispered as more tears slid down her cheeks.
“Because… I choose you.” I held her hand tightly. “Because you own my heart.” She started sobbing quietly. “Because as Ash said, we’re only given moments, and I’m choosing to live mine with the truth.”
The funeral ended with a prayer.
And I confidently wrapped an arm around Serena and walked her away from everyone.
She could ride with me back to her parents’ house for food.
She could hold my hand if she needed comfort.
And she would be kissing my mouth for sustenance.
I was hers.
She was mine.
“As long as we both shall live,” I swore.
“As long as we both shall live,” she repeated.
Amen.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Serena
We held hands the entire drive back to my house. Junior’s eyes were locked on the road, but his hand gripped mine so tight I could swear I felt the imprint of his ring on his finger.
The Nicolasi ring.
The crest.
The heaviness of the Nicolasi Kingdom resting on his shoulders as well as a fallen kingdom that he’d helped resurrect.
Who knew a few weeks ago, we would be in this position?
“His speech was beautiful.” I tried to keep the terror out of my voice, but it was nearly impossible. All I kept thinking was what happened if that was Junior, and how I wouldn’t live if it was.
I would never forgive the person who took him away from me.
Never.
“You’re beautiful.” Junior brought my hand to his lips and then turned down a dirt road outside the city. We were still miles from my house.
“We could go out like Romeo and Juliet,” I suggested.
Junior cursed and turned off the car; then his hands were in my hair as his mouth devoured mine, his tongue tasted like whiskey as it flicked and teased me, making promises we both knew he couldn’t keep.
Like forever.
We broke apart, panting.
“I love you.” Tears formed in my eyes as I crawled over the console and straddled him, I’d never been more thankful he had a stupid Maserati.
Junior’s mouth parted as he pressed hungry kisses to my chin and down my neck, his hands already lifting my form-fitting thankfully, stretchy, body con dress up to my hips.
He let out a curse when his hands hit bare ass.
I grinned down at him. “Well, you keep ripping them—”
“Fuck, I love you.” Our mouths crashed together as I worked the front of his black dress pants, pulling him free. He was always so ready for me, so hard, every huge inch of him… hard and throbbing for me.
We broke apart as he helped lift me onto him, and then I was taking him as slowly as I could, until I felt him in my soul, so deep I had to suck in a sharp breath to keep from tensing up.
“In another life…” He pressed a tender kiss to the corner of my mouth. “We had ten kids.”
“Ten?” I laughed through my tears. Through my pleasure. Through my heartache. “Why ten?”
“Because you can’t keep your hands off of me,” he growled against my mouth then nipped my lips before sucking them so hard that I cried out against him, the feeling of his mouth sucking, his body moving beneath me was almost too much to take.
“That’s true,” I panted.
“And in another life, your father wouldn’t kill me for loving you. I would have seen you pregnant with my children; I would have my ring on your finger. I would have your blood etched on my fucking soul, and I would give you my name.”
Tears dripped off my chin as I nodded my head. “Serena Nicolasi.” I gasped and then changed my mind. “No. Serena De Lange-Nicolasi. Because if I get to marry the king, I want him all. The bad parts, the good. I want the forbidden. I want the Phoenix.”
“I don’t want to let go,” Junior confessed. “I’m so close, always with you, so close to the edge.”
“I’ll jump with you,” I swore. “And Junior…” My body shook as he filled me harder as I took him deeper. “You aren’t alone.”
We both came apart, Junior whispering my name with reverence, me screaming his name like a claiming.
When I looked down, he had pulled the Nicolasi crest ring from his finger and slid it onto my left hand. “Just in case.”
“Don’t say that, please don’t—”
He kissed away my protests.
My fears.
I realized in that moment, I might have been kissing a Nicolasi heir, but it was the De Lange blood that had claimed me, over and over again, and it was that crest that I wanted pressed against my skin, that name I would shout over and over again until the world heard my outrage.
He was mine.
And if he went down.
I was going down right by his side.
“They’ll be waiting for us.” Junior sighed.
“Let them wait, just a little bit longer…” I kissed him softly. “Let them wait until we’re ready.”
“Until we’re ready,” he said against my lips.
But even then,
time was steadily ticking by.
And we were nearly out of it.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Junior
All the cars were at Nixon’s. And waiting outside was the man himself, standing next to my dad.
The moms were probably inside crying or at least pleading with Tex to change the rules, to say something—anything to make this better.
But what could they do?
We knowingly defied the bosses’ rules.
What was worse—in Nixon’s eyes, I knowingly defiled his daughter’s pure blood with mine.
Serena and I both got out of the car and slammed the doors. We walked toward each other.
She grabbed my hand and then pulled me against her in a hug, our mouths met in an achingly slow kiss that felt like goodbye, and then we broke apart.
“Whatever your dad says about mine, about—” I sighed. “It’s true. All of it. I just want you to know. I was sworn not to tell anyone the full story since it would tarnish everyone’s view of my dad. Just know, I’ve never once in my life lied to you, but this… was not my secret to tell.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s worse than I think it is, isn’t it?”
“It’s why your dad wants me dead…”
“If it were anyone else…” Serena repeated as if remembering Ash’s words all those years ago, and then we were out of time.
“Inside,” Nixon said in a cold voice, his eyes flashed murder each time he blinked.
My dad’s jaw clenched as he held his old Colt King Cobra gun in his right hand, resting against his thigh.
I gripped Serena’s hand as we slowly walked through the doors and sighed in frustration when every single boss present—and all of them were present because of the funeral—held their guns in their right hands.
And not just any guns.
No, each of them had a special gun that represented death.
My dad had his, which meant the rest of them had theirs.
The world was full of murderers who just grabbed a gun and pointed—but my world? It was full of a certain way of doing things, a respect for the hardware that took the life, and escorted the soul to the afterlife.
I wanted to protect her so desperately. I wanted to stand in front of her and tell her to fucking run.
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