“Too late to hit them harder,” he muttered.
“We’ll find creative outlets. Nik will have his fun. Luca will make their lives hell digitally. Bastion will scare their cousins. We’re a full-service trauma centre.”
“My brothers,” His mouth twitched. Just a little.
“Yeah. Your brothers.” I clapped his shoulder. “Welcome to the expensive taste club.”
He snorted. “You started it.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Down the hall, I could hear the med team arrive. The heirs groaned as they were rolled onto stretchers. Somewhere in another wing, a dynasty daughter with royal-level blood was probably sitting in one of our quiet rooms.
I’d check on her before the night was out. Not as Vince the enforcer. As the man whose idiot brother had clearly fallen for her.
Because that’s what we did.
We fell hard. Once.
27
Vince
I slumped into the backseat. Driver in the front, quiet. Partition up. Exactly how I liked it when my head was loud. I lit a cigarette, took the first drag deep, held it until my lungs burned more than my thoughts.
We pulled away from Rome’s building.
I’d left him on his couch, bottle in his fist. He’d been halfway to the door to the finish what he started at the hotel.
You go to the airport and finish it, Nik’s the one up all night with three dynasties and a sovereign. You get the satisfaction, he gets the fallout.
That stopped him. Every time. Rome would rather rip his own grafted skin open than disappoint Nikolai.
I flicked ash into the crystal tray built into the armrest and hit Nik’s name.
One ring.
“Tell me they’re alive.”
His voice tired. Paper in the background. War room.
“Unfortunately for them. They’re breathing. Won’t be walking properly for a while, but they’ll live long enough to sign whatever apology you put in front of them.”
A rustle. Probably him dragging a hand down his face while reading two reports at once.
“Rome?”
“On his couch. Vodka instead of murder. You’re welcome.” The corner of my mouth kicked up. “He was halfway to the airport. I just reminded him you’d be the one having a hard night if he turned two heirs into meat in a sovereign hangar.”
“You played the ‘you’ll hurt me’ card.”
“He folded fast.”
“Thank you.”
My thumb rolled the Crow ring, feeling the familiar weight of it. Same metal Nik wore, same crest.
Dynasties liked to pretend they were modern. The Codex told the truth.
