“Nothing to say?” I press the gun to his temple. “Here I thought you’d finally stopped hiding behind your name like a coward.”
Michael’s face remains calm and impassive. “At least one of us has.”
I lower my voice. “I should’ve taken care of you when I had the chance.”
One corner of Michael’s mouth twitches upward. “And who’s to blame for that?”
“I won’t make that mistake again.” I fire a warning shot into the wall behind him, and all hell breaks loose.
Someone tackles me from behind, and we fall forward with a thud. I throw my weight back, the back of my head connecting with something solid. There’s a loud grunt, and the arms around my waist go slack. When I spin around to face my attacker, all I see is red.
I pull my hand back and land a solid punch to the stomach.
My nameless attacker grunts again and launches himself at me.
We crash into a nearby chair, and the wood digs into my back.
Then we’re rolling on the floor, and there’s the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. I growl as fury burns through me. I’m battling to gain the upper hand when I hear another gunshot, and a bullet clips my hair and lodges itself into someone behind me.
The smell of sweat and gunpowder fills the air.
And all I can think about is getting my hands on Michael Everett.
Once I finally have the upper hand on my assailant—a blond, muscled man with a tattoo peeking out from under his shirt—I force myself to my feet. My heart is pounding in my ears, andevery inch of me is alert and on edge as I glance around the room to see my father locked in a heated exchange with Moretti.
There’s a flicker of movement to my right, and Michael lunges for me, his fingers closed around the grip of a gun. Carlisle materializes out of nowhere and knocks the gun from Michael’s hand. It only slows his advance long enough for me to throw myself at his middle.
I place one leg on either side of Michael and land a solid punch to his face.
I throw another punch and hear the satisfying crunch of bone as blood sprays from his nose. Somewhere in the chaos, I hear Lance’s voice. Then I see him stumble toward us, cradling his arm to his chest with his eyes wide. Carlisle tackles Lance, and I turn back to Michael, whose blood stains my knuckles and my shirt.
Slowly, I lift him by the scruff of his neck, so we are eye level. “Not so smug now are you, you piece of shit?”
Michael pulls back his lips and offers me a bloody grin. “It’s a little pathetic how easy it is to rile you up. The great Mason Payne. I expected more.”
I shake Michael hard enough to make his teeth rattle. “In case you haven’t noticed, asshole, you’re on the receiving end of my anger, so you might want to reconsider your strategy.”
“Yeah?” Michael says. “Look at what you’ve done with only a little bit of goading.”
I slam Michael against the nearest wall. Then I place my arm against his chest, restricting his air supply. “I maintain what I said. You didn’t think this through, and I will enjoy watching you bleed out. Once I’m done with you, I’ll move on to Lance. Maybe I’ll even go find that sister of yours.”
Michael tilts his head and spits out a mouthful of blood. “Do whatever the fuck you want, Payne. You and I both know thatyou’re not in control anymore. After today, everyone else will know it, too.”
I punch Michael in the stomach, and he doesn’t flinch. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Michael leans in so close that I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “It’s going to be so fucking good to watch you burn. Knowing you’ll take the Payne empire down with you is just a bonus.”
I throw another punch and pin Michael again. “That’s not going to happen.”
Michael raises an eyebrow and uses his free hand to gesture vaguely. “Look around you. It’s already begun.”
A sick feeling spreads through my stomach as I glance away to take in the carnage around me. A few people are bleeding out on the floors, and many others are cradling their arms or hobbling on their feet. My father has Moretti pinned against the other side of a table, and they’re still circling each other, but I know that look on his face.
He’s out for blood.
All his tightly wound control is about to snap and unleash the side of him everyone whispers about, and it’s all my fault.
Shit.
