I do. But I can feel his restraint thinning. Fury is eating him alive.
We spill onto the arena floor.
“Exit’s there,” I snap, catching the double doors past the booths, the brass glinting under smoke. Dante nods once, his arms tightening around Alicia, and we surge toward it.
Gunmen pour in from the corners, suits cutting through the chaos. One levels a pistol at Dante’s back. I whip my foot up, slam it into his wrist, and the shot goes wild. I drive my elbow into his throat and keep moving.
Every step forward is a war. Dante grunts with the weight of her, but he doesn’t stumble, doesn’t falter. The exit looms closer, but so do Serrano’s men, stacking tighter, guns raised. The storm’s converging, and we’re dead in the middle of it.
The double doors are almost in reach when they burst inward. A ripple shudders through the crowd as the suits part, and Victor Serrano himself steps into the light.
He’s sharper than the rumors made him. He’s not just a man in control, he radiates it. Midnight suit tailored to his frame, slick black hair that gleams like oil, smile cut thin and venomous. His eyes find Dante instantly, like he knew exactly who he was.
“Well,” Serrano drawls, his voice carrying over the chaos, smooth as silk and sharp as razors. “If it isn’t my prodigal son.Dante Cross. Thief, traitor, liar.” His smile widens, “Tell me, does she know? Does your little biker whore know what you did to my brother?”
Dante freezes for the first time all night. I feel his body locking beside mine, Alicia trembling in his arms.
Serrano circles closer, eating the space between us. His words slash through the din.
“I took you in, raised you as my own, gave you a name, a place in my house. And this is how you repay me? You sold out my blood. Handed Andris over to the feds, let them drag him away in cuffs. You fed them everything. You betrayed your family, Dante. My family. And you think anyone here will forget that?”
The air crackles, Serrano’s eyes knifing between us. For a second, I don’t see Dante, the man I almost let in. I see Dante the traitor. The ground shifts under me. And that hesitation costs me.
Before I can process, Serrano moves, a flash of steel in his hand. He lunges too fast. The knife drives deep into my side, heat flaring white-hot as the blade bites flesh.
The world stutters. Pain floods me, sharp and searing, but I don’t drop. I can’t. I slam my fist into Serrano’s jaw, the crack echoing through the chamber. He staggers, blood at his lip, but his eyes gleam with fury.
Dante growls behind me, shifting Alicia to keep her shielded while rage shakes through him. His mask shadows his face, but his voice is pure steel. “You should have gone down with him, Victor.”
Serrano snarls and comes again. Even with blood seeping through the fabric at my waist, I plant my feet, fists raised, trying like hell to ignore the fire tearing through my ribs. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall.
12
DANTE
Serrano moves like a viper, steel flashing under the lights. For half a heartbeat I see it coming, but I’m not fast enough to stop it. His knife arcs low and buries into Katana’s side.
Her body jolts, the silk of her pantsuit darkening as blood blooms across her waist. She staggers, her face tightening, but she doesn’t fall. She squares up, fists still raised, daring him to try again. Then she snaps forward, her fist cracking across Serrano’s jaw with a brutal smack that turns his head sideways. His lip splits, blood spraying across his perfect suit.
The sight rips me apart. Pride slices hot through the fury because even bleeding out, Katana’s still fighting, still proving she’s stronger than anyone in this room.My Hellcat.
The sound of her breath catching, the way her eyes flash fire through the pain, it detonates something primal in me. My chest locks tight, rage burning up my ribs, my throat, my skull. Serrano’s roar dies in my ears. All I hear is the ragged drag of her breathing.
I shift Alicia to her feet behind me, shielding her with my body. One arm cages her in, the other already flexing with the need to rip Serrano apart.
The sight of Katana bleeding seers into me. And all I see when I look at Serrano is the smug curl of his mouth, the same expression he’s worn for years, the one that says he thinks he owns me. Owns everything.
Not anymore.
Fury ignites under my ribs, white-hot, savage. The leash snaps.
Serrano’s blade is still slick with Katana’s blood when I catch his wrist, twist hard, and drive the steel back where it belongs. The knife punches into his chest with a wet crack, straight through his tailored suit. His eyes go wide, his smug little grin ripping off his face as I jam him backward into the wall.
“You don’t touch her,” I snarl, every word a growl torn out of my throat. “Ever.”
Serrano gurgles, choking on blood, but even with death clawing at him, his smirk fights to crawl back. “Still protecting strays,” he rasps, crimson bubbling at his lips. “Just like your mother. She was weak too. That’s why I took care of you.”
The words slam into me harder than any blade. My pulse detonates. For years I told myself I owed him, but the night my brother died I walked away from him and everything his name stood for.
