“Your boyfriends are now sitting on the throne,” is all he says.
I don’t respond to the jealousy in his voice. I don’t argue that Jax and Keane are not my boyfriends. I don’t think there’s a label for what we are. Complicated would be the word I would choose.
I’m also not surprised that they stepped in to fill the void left gaping wide open with my not-real father’s sudden disappearance. Instead, I ponder on how I can manipulate that information and use them to make my next move.
“Are you ready to get out?”
“Not yet,” I answer.
The water is no longer warm, and my fingertips have pruned. But I’m not ready to face reality. I need a few more minutes of peace. Because once I step out of this room, I’m no longer Alexandria Donatella McCarthy Rossi. I’m the woman who is going to rain hell down upon the families and Julio Ortiz and burn their houses to the ground.
Chapter 8
“You look better,” Declan says to me when Liam and I come out of the bedroom.
He’s sitting on the small couch, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose and an e-reader in his hand. He doesn’t look like a mobster or a cold-blooded murderer. He doesn’t look like the man who recently took out over half the made men in the Rossi organization.
“Is Tessa still here?” I ask him, taking a seat in the plaid armchair across from him.
I cross my legs at the ankle, hands folded demurely in my lap, and sit up straight. It’s a habit ingrained in me through years of beatings. Fuck that shit. I slouch back and man-spread like the best of them. Declan seems bemused.
“She left a little while ago.”
“Rafe?” Just saying his name makes my blood rage. My ex and I have some unfinished business.
“He left with her,” Declan casually answers, which is not the answer I was wanting, but I let it slide for now.
He tells Liam, “Get everything ready. We’re leaving within the hour.”
“Yes, sir.”
Liam casually brushes a hand across my shoulder as he passes by. A gesture that isn’t lost on his boss. I avoid Declan’s questioning eyebrow raise by taking in my surroundings.
The interior of the house looks different in the daytime. Like a vacation rental. The living room, kitchen, and eating area are all connected in one big, open space. There are four bedroom doors lined up alongside one another off the living room. A short hallway leads to the back door and the outside cellar. The walls are bare. No pictures or other decorations.
“Are we going somewhere?”
Declan removes his glasses and sets them and the tablet on the table. “We’re going home.”
Home.
“You told me last night that I was free to leave. Were you telling the truth?”
Declan props his elbows on his knees, his eyes meeting mine. “I will never lie to you.” He doesn’t blink or look away. “I won’t stop you. But I don’t think leaving is what you want to do.”
His discerning gaze and the fact that he can read me so easily, catches me by surprise.
“It’s not.”
He nods slowly and sits back. “I’m listening.”
Without hesitation, I reply, “I’m not done with my revenge.”
Maximillian Rossi was just the first. I remembered something Keane had said about cutting off the head of a hydra and another one appearing. That things within the organization were precarious, like falling dominoes. I have to make sure the Rossifamigliais fully dismantled and destroyed so completely, that it can never rise from the ashes. Then, there is what to do about the Ortiz Cartel. Before I decide on how to handle that problem, I want to speak with Rafe.
But first, I need to send a message.
“Is he still down there?” I ask Declan.
