Gino’s pulling the trigger, but fate’s on our side. In his carelessness, Gino blundered into one of the booby traps. He’s already falling forward as the gun goes off. I flinch, but the shot goes wild. It hits a machine and ricochets. Everyone ducks.
Royal curses in Italian. “Someone take his gun.”
Enzo rushes to take care of it. Gino’s still flailing on the floor.
“Idiota.” Royal runs a hand over his face. He looks tired as he turns to me. “Lucrezia.”
“I’m okay.” I step forward, tears pricking my eyes at the sight of him. “I’m in a vest. Victor. . .” I turn back to where Victor stands silently, the sunlight filtering in through the dust gilds his stunning features. He looks calm, maybe a little sad.
Behind me, Royal clears his throat, and I realize I’ve lost my train of thought. It’s not often that that happens.
“Victor,” I say more firmly, “found Stephanos. He helped me.”
“Helped you?”
“Saved me. He saved me.” From myself especially.
Royal looks back and forth between us. I can tell it’s on the tip of his tongue to give the order to incapacitate or maybe even kill Victor.
So I gesture for my beautiful monster to come and wait until he’s standing at my side to make things clear. “You can’t kill him,” I tell Royal and the men of my family, gripping Victor’s hand. “He’s mine.”
17
Lula
The Regis mansionis the heart of La Famiglia. Dark and filled with heavy, imposing furniture, it’s a shocking contrast to the sterile, modern decor Victor prefers. Royal used to keep the temperature five degrees cooler than what was comfortable, but then he found his wife. Now, the air is a tad too warm but perfect for Leah and the spaghetti strap camisoles she likes to wear. And if she gets overheated while baking, sliding things in and out of the oven, well, Royal’s always trying to get her naked, anyway.
There was a day when I swore that Royal would never marry for love. Some would say he didn’t, but I know better. When it comes to devious, dangerous men, love looks a lot like obsession.
I lean on a sturdy mahogany leather chair, studying my cousin’s dark expression and sipping my wine. I refused any food—my stomach is still unsettled—but accepted a glass of merlot. It’s still not as good as the wine Victor keeps for me.
Royal and I have caught up on a lot of things in the past hour. Family, business, Gino’s betrayal, Stephanos’ death, and the way Victor turned his gang. We’re in agreement on many things, but?—
“So you’re telling me I have to accept this murderer into my family?”
“Yes.” I toy with the sword charm on my necklace. My mother bought it to give to me when I turned thirteen, and I used to feel her presence whenever I touched it. Now, the miniature blade reminds me of Victor.
Royal shakes his head, muttering in Italian.
“He’s a useful asset. But even if he wasn’t. . .” I shrug. “I want him.” I gave up everything for vengeance. It’s time I claimed something for myself.
“If he betrays you. . .”
“He won’t. Any more than you could betray Leah.”
Royal accepts this with a growl, and I hide my smile. One day, I’ll tell him my theory on how much he and Victor are alike.
“I’ll allow it,”Royal says finally. “On one condition.” He digs in his pocket and holds up a dull silver coin. On it, a long-haired man stands with his head bowed, holding a cross. Or is it a woman holding a sword?
“You’ve offered this to me before.” I didn’t take it because I’d just met David. And because Royal was still solidifying his power base, ushering the old guard out and replacing them with new, well-trained men who wouldn’t mind taking orders from a woman. From me.
“It’s time.” He presses it into my hand. For such a small thing, it’s heavy, carrying the weight of the Regis family.
“Accepted. Although, with Gino out, there’s an extra seat.” When Victor proves himself, he’d be perfect for it.
“Don’t push it.”
I turn with a smirk. “If that’s all, then I’d like to see Victor.”
