But I said nothing.
Too many seconds had gone by. They were getting away.
A dark tempest of emotions surged inside me when I took a step towards the door, growing stronger when I took another. I welcomed those chaotic emotions gladly. There was full-blown storm by the time I climbed back into Axle’s Hummer.
Said storm battered me relentlessly, making my eyes climb to glance into the rearview. Looking for a shop and a girl that had long since left my line of sight as I went hurtling through the night. I forced my eyes onto the road and focused on what needed to be done.
What had to be done. Failure wasn’t an option.
I shot a quick text to Tex. He would ask the fewest questions. Then I reached into the glove compartment and grabbed my black Glock, letting it ride shotgun on the passenger seat beside me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tone
The miles vanished beneath me while I passed the rest of the sleepy town in a blur of speed. I was in sight of the hotel before I knew it. Parking haphazardly in the loading area and lunging from the seat before I could bother to put together a plan.
A frightened older man stationed behind the counter took me in. Glancing at the blood and paint and glass covering me. The gun I held in a tense grip. The crazy-ass look I knew was beaming from my hard eyes.
“Where?” I barked, hardly even stopping.
He rattled off a room number and I took to the stairs, needing to keep the war in my veins pumping. Urging me forward. Looking back would cripple me. So would thinking about the woman I left behind.
Huge steps carried me up and up and up, until I reached the hallway leading directly to the penthouse. No guards stood outside the door. Finally, an iota of luck had decided to make an appearance.
I charged, momentum carrying me forward, a battering ram of dark skin and pissed off muscle. My boot hit the door, and the sound of splintering wood filled the air as a large section of the door jamb tore free. I sailed inside, gun sweeping across the massive, penthouse suite, even as two pistols and a rifle came up to greet me.
It wasn’t the firepower waiting for me in the middle of the onyx and silver room that gave me pause. It was a combination of two things I had least expected to see when I stormed in here.
Gio was on the floor of the living room. What was left of him, anyway. His face was a red ruin, and his brains were scattered across the cherry hardwoods. It looked as if someone had stood right on his chest and put their gun to his forehead before pulling the trigger.
And somehow, the sight of him dead wasn’t the most shocking thing I struggled to understand.
Peeking around Asher’s back—and let it be said that the man did have some real emotions, because he looked beyond furious just then—was a woman who carried a surprising resemblance to him.
Same blonde hair.
Same blue eyes, though hers were wide in fear instead of anger.
Unless his mom had somehow found the fountain of youth, this had to be his sister. Teresa Palazzo
No fucking way, I thought, giving myself a quick shake.
Axle and I had studied every bit of information we could find on the man. Every. Single. Bit. And among those pieces of information, one fact I read stood out in my mind. A clipping from a headline dated two years ago.
Teresa Palazzo, heiress, socialite and fiancée to Dalton Marotta has passed away after her private jet crash-landed.
I was either staring at a ghost, the most well-done body double I’d ever seen, or a woman who was supposed to be dead...and wasn’t.
Asher mastered the emotion on his face after a moment and adjusted his tie, slipping the mask back into place. “I suppose I should not have expected animals to know how to knock before they enter.”
“What the fuck is going on?” I kept my gun level with his center mass. Even if they shot me—which they very much looked like they wanted to do—the odds were in my favor that the trigger would get pulled. “Why did you kill your own fucking man, and how and why is your fucking sister alive?”
“First.” He raised a single finger. “Stop cursing. It’s crude. Second.” Another finger went up, and I wondered if it would be unreasonable to shoot it. “Choose one question and we will go from there.”
I licked my lips, trying to decide where to start. Fuck, this was too much to try and sort out. “Gio,” I said finally. “Dead. Why?”
Asher folded his hands behind his back, but not before pushing his very not-dead sister farther behind him. “As I said before. He was testing you, along with the rest of the Sinners. I had to know what your response would look like should you truly be pushed to act in spite of overwhelming opposition.”
My hands shook and I adjusted my grip, wishing I could recover the strength I’d used up already. “That doesn’t explain anything. He was doing what you asked. Why kill him?”
Asher gave me a bored stare. “You should already know. I do not accept half-measures or improvisation. I expect my orders to be followed to the exact letter. The moment anyone else arrived on the scene, he should have left well-enough alone. Instead, he risked everything.”
God damn it, why wouldn’t he just speak plainly and stop talking in riddles? I didn’t have it in me to do this merry-go-round with him over and over. My body was going to straight-up quit on me before long. The frequent surges of adrenaline had already left me exhausted and wobbling on my feet.
Teresa tapped her brother lightly on the shoulder, and he didn’t glance at her, but I felt his attention leave me. “This is a bad idea,” she said quietly. “Maybe we should have gone somewhere else. What about-”
“There is nowhere else.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “We’re surrounded by snakes, sorella. There’s no one else we can trust.”
“So, you want to trust…him?” Teresa peeked around his shoulder to stare me up and down, nose wrinkling. The amount of disgust she managed to squeeze in there was impressive. I almost felt offended.
At least until I met her eyes and she paled, hiding behind him again.
I wet my lips. “Either someone tells me—in words I can fucking understand—what the hell is going on here. Or, I’m going to start shooting and see where that gets me instead.”
Asher glared at me, as if that meant a thing. Feeling antsy and crazed, I wagged my brows at him. We stayed that way for at least a minute, but probably more. Then he sighed.
“Luca,” he said. “Don. Michael. Give us the room. Leave your weapons behind.”
They didn’t offer any backtalk or even glance at each other. The three of them simply emptied their hands, disassembled their guns down to the magazines, and set the separate pieces on the counter leading towards the kitchen before striding towards the door.
I turned sideways so I could keep my eyes on them. Don tried to close the door once they stepped through, but it only smacked against the fractured door jamb and opened back up.
Asher nodded his head at the pistol I was still pointing his way. “Put the gun down if you want this conversation to continue.”
Listening to a cold-blooded killer was seldom a good idea. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a variety of options to choose from. He had ruined my life, right when it started to be worth living again.
Finding out why was all I had left.
“The family is full of traitors,” Asher said once my gun was on the floor in front of me. He motioned for me to kick it towards him and I did. “Always has been and always will be. To call them snakes is a disservice to reptiles everywhere, and yet no other title is quite as appropriate. My father and his father before him had to become masters at working inside the nest without getting bitten, and they passed what they knew down to me. Do you know the secret to avoiding a snakebite, Tone?”
Him using my name like we were buddies made me want to rip his tongue out. The slight woman pacing behind him, chewing at her nails so hard they couldn’t possibly be more than nubs gave those violent urges pause. Mostly because she seemed so out of place.
Did the ruthless gene only pass between father and son?
Other than her clear dislike of me—which was fair, given the way I’d introduced myself—she was about as fierce as a mouse.
“Pay attention when I’m talking to you,” Asher snapped, losing his cool again. I didn’t believe it was a coincidence that the only times his control had ever slipped happened to come when his sister was around.
I glared at him. “What’s the fucking secret then, prick?”
He grimaced and strolled towards the fireplace mantle, grabbing the tumbler of amber liquid there and pouring himself a generous shot that he tossed back. “Weakness,” he said. “Any show of weakness, and the same snakes who were a harmless threat before will do their best to attack and take down prey that might be bigger than them. Two years ago, they smelled weakness. And no, I will not tell you why. The important part is that, shortly afterward, people started making attempts on my sister’s life.”
He stared down into fire, knuckles going white on the glass he clutched for dear life. For her part, Teresa looked torn between comforting him and shooting looks at the farthest corner of the room. As if she could tuck herself away and disappear.
There was a cough from the hall, and she jumped like she would come out of her skin.
I watched in surprise I didn’t bother trying to hide as she dropped to the floor and hid behind a high-backed chair. Jesus. What kind of shit had she been through these last two years?
“As you can see.” Asher’s sharp voice reminded me of an angry chainsaw. He managed a deep breath and cooled the heat in it when his sister trembled. “There was a lasting effect from what she went through.”
“How many attempts?” I asked.
“Enough that I worried the close calls would kill her before my enemies got the chance to.” His eyes burned. He hated that he was in this position. Spilling his guts to me.
Made me wish I could drag this out even more.
“So you faked her death.”
“I did, and it was the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life. There were a thousand moving pieces to keep track of. A million more when it came to hiding her away.”
My brows dipped in a frown. “Then why not keep her hidden? Why bring her here?”
She peeked her head up from behind the chair, seeming to just then realize that she was cowering behind it. Standing, she tipped her chin up and brushed at her jean-clad knees. The stance she took was meant to be powerful, but even I could see how fragile it was around the edges.
How easy it would be to make a sudden movement and send her tumbling back into cowardice.
For fuck’s sake, she could barely look at either of us for very long because her eyes kept darting across the room. Landing nowhere for very long. She reminded me of a deer, or maybe a squirrel. A woodland creature staring into the shadows because there was always something out there ready for its next meal.
An emotion I might have called pain on someone who I believed was human crossed Asher’s face. He started forward, slowly reaching for her arm. Moving so very carefully it was frustrating to watch. Still, she jumped for a moment when his fingers grazed her elbow.
There was a tick in his jaw as he led her towards an open bedroom close by. He whispered something in her ear, and the quiet words that did reach me were in Italian. Then he closed the door in her face while she stood directly on the other side.
Asher stared at the door for a moment before coming back to me. Well, not to me exactly. He went straight for the amber tumbler and downed another glass.
“Keeping someone off the grid is borderline impossible these days.” He swiped his fingers through his styled hair, leaving it askew. “In every major city, there is an unfathomable amount of surveillance happening, and not nearly enough of it is kept behind closed doors. Add in the thousands of sycophants glued to the idea of cataloguing each moment of their life and sharing it to the world? Things get even more difficult. At least until I found a small little town where everyone knows each other, and suspicious outsiders are treated to a tail following them wherever they might go.”
“So what?” I shrugged, trying to put the pieces together. “You’re planning on hiding out here for the rest of time? I’m not sorry to tell you that isn’t going work for either of us.”
He faced me then, wearing the same evil glint in his eyes that had been there when he murdered a woman over nothing. I wanted my gun back in my hand. “Spending all my time and resources on keeping people away from Teresa put me on the back foot. I was unable to go on the offensive because I was constantly watching out for attacks from angles I could only guess at. You and the rest of your little savages are my solution.”
“I went after someone close to you, and you came after me without hesitation,” he continued. Long-winded asshole. Is that the blood loss talking or me? “It was admirable. Stupid as can be, but admirable nonetheless. Which is why I want that same focused placed on her, but on a larger scale.”
“You’re leaving her here,” I said, connecting the dots so that they blazed in the landscape of my mind.
He nodded. “I am not here to extort just you. My decree will affect the entire band, so when you leave here, I suggest you tell them what my orders are, exactly.”
My teeth ground together, a vein in my forehead throbbing. “And what are those orders, exactly?”
“Keep. Her. Safe.”
I hated the man in front of me. Hated him in a way I hadn’t allowed myself to hate in years. But I heard him loud and clear. His order came with a confession he might not have been willing to speak, but I gathered the meaning behind it all the same.
Everything he had done had been for her.
He was completely and utterly willing to gift-wrap his soul and send it straight to the Devil, if it meant his sister stayed above ground.
I hated him.
Yet there was a part of me that had no choice but to acknowledge and even respect his decision. I was in no position to cast stones on the lengths I would go to in order to protect those I cared about.
Had I not tried to strangle a man to death less than an hour ago?
I could wax poetic about how Gio deserved it. About the things he might have done if I hadn’t arrived when I did. About the many skeletons I was sure lurked in his past.
The justifications for my actions were many, but it didn’t stop them from being exactly what they were: excuses.
He hurt someone I considered mine, and I took it upon myself to punish him for that crime. I played judge, jury, and executioner, and if his body wasn’t cooling on the floor, I would’ve done it again.
And again.
And again.
So, instead of raging against the edict Asher was passing on.
Raging against the threat he was lobbying against me and my family.
Because make no mistake, it was a threat, clear as day. The God’s honest truth of the matter was that—infighting or not—the full might of the Palazzo syndicate brought to bear would crush us.
The Seven Sinners wouldn’t go down without a fight. It wasn’t in our blood. We would go to our graves kicking and screaming. Dragging those who attacked us down into the burning pits.
But the end result would be the same. Death. Too damn much of it.
As satisfying as it would be to spit in this man’s face and then put a bullet through it, I wouldn’t act on impulse and ruin something that would affect everyone I held dear. Tonight was about making choices I didn’t like for the greater good. It was becoming a night oddly similar to the one after Katherine’s burial.
A night where I stared up at the stars and said her promise to myself over and over until I knew the words of it were etched into my heart.
I let my tired body slump into the closest seat, spreading my hands on my knees as I leaned forward.
Asher sat down directly across from me. A soft clink on the table between us had me looking up. Noticing the second glass he had placed there.
/> Making sure he was watching, I grabbed the glass. Extended it towards him. Upended the contents onto his overpriced loafers before letting the glass fall and shatter. He didn’t move a muscle for a moment, but when he did, he started talking.
And I did the only thing I could do.
The only thing that would keep me from losing anyone else I cared about.
I listened.
Very, very carefully.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Naomi
Defeat had a certain ring to it. A calling card. A taste. For me, it was the saltiness of my tears as I sat surrounded by my broken dreams.
I wasn't sure how long I’d been there, curled into a small ball on a sparse area not covered in paint and glass. At some point after Tone walked away from me for the last time, my legs gave out while the world caught up.
Reaching for the numbness was futile. No matter how hard I tried to find that blessed island of nothingness, it was nowhere to be seen. The tide had risen, hiding it from me. Leaving me to drown in an ocean of pain.
My whole body ached, but it was hard to pay it any mind when my chest was a giant, gaping wound at the mercy of the elements. I was open and exposed. Inside-out, and unable to put the fragile bits of me back where they belonged.
How could I possibly focus on anything other than the crack in my heart, when the same things that had put it there kept flashing through my mind?
Blink.
I saw the maniac crushing my dreams. Breaking what I worked so hard for. Threatening to kill me for no reason other than convenience.
Blink.
I saw my knight coming to my rescue. Felt the hope swell in my chest as he mercilessly savaged my attacker. Watched that same hope wither and die when more killers flooded my space, tainting it with their black hearts.
Straining to keep my eyes open, I bit into my lip. I didn't want to see what came next. Once was enough. But my eyes watered, the fumes from the paint and the strain of the night catching up to me so, so quickly.
Blink.
I saw the man I loved—the man I thought loved me—ignoring my plea. Walking away from me. From us.
Tempted by a Sinner (Seven Sinners Book 4) Page 28