“Put this on,” Raf instructs, tossing me a shirt when we get to the car, and I do as he says as the driver pulls out onto the road.
My shirt sticks to my back as soon as I don it, and when I glance down to peel off the tape on my knuckles, I find my shorts are streaked with blood.
Not all of it’s mine, though my mouth tastes like copper and fury.
Fighting is the only thing that feels real to me.
It’s the only thing I’ve really cared about—besides my brothers.
The world narrowed to fists and pain when I’m in the ring, and after everything that’s happened to my family this year—to Raf more than any of us—bare-knuckle boxing is the only thing that seems to keep me sane.
The Yakuza took my brother’s wife in the same way they take everything—merciless, calculated, final.
She was gentle, sweet, nothing like the shadows we live in.
And they snuffed her out, right alongside our family home and my father, who ruled half the city of Chicago.
Since then, I’ve been chasing violence like oxygen.
“Where are we going that’s so damn important, anyway?” I demand when the driver takes a turn in the opposite direction of Miko’s home.
“To meet your future wife,” Raf says, his tone flat, his expression deadpan.
He must be joking. But he doesn’t even crack a smile, and slowly, my stomach starts to sink.
“She’s expecting us,” Raf says.
I bark a humorless laugh. “I’m not marrying anyone.”
“You are,” Raf says, his tone final. He doesn’t even look at me, just turns his head to look out the window, jaw tight. “She’s from the Lombardi family,” he adds, like the name should mean something to me.
It does.
They’re old allies, powerful in their own right, with fingers in every political pie worth touching.
They’ve been pushing for a marriage into Chiaroscuro blood for years. But Raf…
“Why me? You’re the one who intends to take over as Don now, and you know that’s who they’ve always really wanted to have marry their daughter,” I say.
“I can’t.” His voice goes quieter, heavier. “You know why.”
Because his wife hasn’t been cold in the ground long enough for the earth to settle.
Because he’s already given his heart once, and having it ripped from his chest broke something inside him I can’t fix.
And because he knows I’ll step in, even if I hate it.
“You’re a bastard for this,” I mutter.
“Maybe,” he says, finally meeting my gaze. “But you’re the only one I trust to do what needs to be done.”
Considering Leo and Gio have both given up their rightful inheritance to be with the women they love and Miko has his own empire to rule now that he’s claimed the title ofPakhanto the Novikov Bratva, I can see where Raf is coming from.
We’re running short on brothers to carry on the Chiaroscuro family business.
And when we once used to be the youngest of five, with no chance of inheriting our father’s territory when he died, suddenly, it would seem we’re all that’s left of our once great Mafia empire.
“Fine,” I mutter, turning away from Raf to look out my window.
