I waited for someone to say something when Tex, the Capo dei Capi, finally stood and addressed us.
“Loyalty. Family. Honor. Independence. Class. Blood.” His eyes flashed as he lifted his wine glass into the air. “Blood of my blood.”
The rest of the men grabbed their glasses, Nikolai included, I’d been initiated in New York, so I had no freaking clue what the hell they were doing or asking me to do, until they all took a sip of wine.
Nikolai sat to my left, Tex gave him a quick nod just as Nikolai reached for the knife and then held out his hand. “Give me your trigger finger.”
I complied.
Barely even blinking.
He pricked the pointer finger on my right hand and held it over the wine glass. “One drop for Loyalty, one drop for Family,” He squeezed harder, I tried not to wince as the stinging sensation increased. “One drop for Honor. One drop for Independence.” He squeezed again. “One drop for Class, one drop for Blood.” He grabbed the gun and pressed it into the palm of my right hand and then put my finger on the trigger. “And one drop for Allegiance.”
Tex walked over to me and knelt as Nikolai forced me to press the tip of the gun into Tex’s forehead. “Do you serve yourself?”
“No,” I said in a low voice.
“Then who do you serve?”
I’d failed every test I could possibly think of in school — on purpose. It always bored me, and now I was facing the biggest test of all.
I would not fail.
“I serve The Family.”
He grinned as jerked the gun away and sat it down.
“Blood in.” Nixon raised his glass. “No out.”
The guys lifted their glasses again and watched me as I lifted mine.
They drank.
Expectant eyes on me.
Chase’s amused glance wasn’t helping things.
I sighed heavily. “Please tell me this isn’t some weird scenario where I end up drinking my own blood.”
Chase burst out laughing. “I bet them each a hundred that you’d question it.”
“Dollars?” I snorted.
“Thousand.” Nixon grinned. “And no you don’t drink it, it’s symbolic, we’re not complete monsters.”
The guys all chuckled at that while I slowly set my wine glass back down.
“Now that loyalty is taken care of.” Nikolai’s gaze briefly darted behind me. “It seems we have one more matter to discuss.”
The room was tense again.
“Chase…” Phoenix suddenly interrupted. “Maybe we should wait until we have Mil, we need all votes to count.”
His expression hardened a bit. “I’ll vote on her behalf.”
Sergio and Phoenix shared a look before Phoenix nodded at Nikolai.
“Right.” Nikolai stood. “You know why I’m here,” He ran a hand through his dark hair. His tattoos flickered in the candlelight. “The Petrovs want what’s theirs.”
I gripped the table with my hands, every muscle flexing with the need to grab El and tell her to make a run for it.
“She’s not fucking property.” I snarled, not realizing I’d even spoken before all eyes fell to me. “What?”
Chase looked away guiltily while Phoenix leaned back in his chair and sighed.
Nixon stared me down and then nodded to Nikolai.
“So glad you agree,” Nikolai said. “That brings us to a vote, I suppose.” His dark look wasn’t comforting at all, or the way his lips curled into a menacing smile. “If she stays under your protection — she’ll need to marry.”
I snorted out a laugh. “She’s a human being!”
“Says the man who just shot a complete stranger… on school property,” Nikolai said in a cold voice.
Man had a point damn it.
“All in favor of her staying under the protection of The Family?”
Everyone raised their hands.
I kept mine firmly planted at my side and shook my head at El, she didn’t deserve this, nobody did.
“Then it’s settled.” Nikolai rubbed his hands together. “Phoenix, you’ll contact me once you find someone suitable to… take her on?”
“Take her on?” I repeated. “Are you hearing yourself right now?”
“You know,” Nicolasi completely ignored me and spoke to Tex. “The only time I ever get yelled at is when I visit, I wonder why that is?”
“Italians,” Tex muttered and winked over at me. “So emotional.”
“Consider it done.” Phoenix started writing something down in one of his notorious black folders and stood. “Shouldn’t be a problem, I already have a few in mind.”
Cold washed over me.
“A few,” I said. Needing to repeat it out loud in order to believe it. “You’re just going to pawn her off onto some guy you barely know? How the hell is that protecting her?”
“New identity.” Phoenix shrugged. “New location. New life. What did you expect?”
For some reason, all I kept thinking was me. I expected me.
I had no business being her protector when I was finding it hard as hell to be her friend.
And yet the thought of her leaving.
Of some other man touching her.
Rage lit my body on fire as my blood boiled beneath my skin.
“Unless, you’re offering?” Nixon said interrupting the daydream I had of shooting every last one of them and telling her to run. “Dante?”
I didn’t look at her.
Couldn’t.
I would be poison to her.
I was the life she wanted to leave.
I represented everything she hated.
She would be exchanging a monster for a villain. “No.”
Nixon nodded as if he’d expected that from the beginning and had made other plans while my soul suddenly felt crushed.
I finally turned to look at El.
And for the first time since I’d seen her — she had tears in her eyes.
One slipped free.
And I knew it in my soul — it was because of me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
El
I’D BEEN RAPED, abused, tortured at the hands of a man who took an oath to love and protect me through sickness and in health — but he was the sickness.
I’d been to hell and back.
And was still alive, breathing, functioning.
And yet I’d never been so embarrassed, so ashamed, in my entire life.
So unwanted.
And tarnished.
Broken.
Dante refused to even look at me as we drove home.
Maybe it was for the best.
He was a killer.
He was unapologetic.
What did that say about me, the kind of person I was, I wondered, if the monster didn’t even want what was left of the discarded princess?
I didn’t even realize I was crying until I felt the tear slide down my cheek, I wiped it away as quickly as I could and mentally cursed myself for even allowing any emotion to show.
You’d think after escaping my ex-husband, after being basically a child bride, I’d have no tears left.
I thought so too.
Until Dante Nicolasi.
The minute the SUV parked back in the giant garage with all its fancy cars and motorcycles — I bolted, my feet taking me faster and faster to the only place that would give me solitude.
My bedroom.
I slammed the door behind me, locked it and fell across my bed in true teenage fashion.
If only.
At nineteen, I was still struggling with the childhood I was never given, while being forced to give up my adulthood in one fell swoop.
“El!” Dante pounded on my door. “Open up.”
I didn’t answer.
I closed my eyes, willed the tears in, and waited for him to leave.
He didn’t keep pounding.