I knew about Matt’s sexuality. I hid it from Tito and the Syndicate, hid it from his enemies, hid it from the public eye. My job was to keep Matt safe, and at the time, that meant keeping his secret … and mine.
The color drains from Matt’s face, and I watch as the realization hits.
“But you were my best friend,” he whispers. “You could have told me anything.”
“Not that. That was my shame to bear, my burden. I had to keep it to myself until I was ready to face what it meant.”
He touches the side of my face, the same spot he triple-punched earlier in the gym. “Aron … There’s no shame in that. If anyone should be ashamed, it’s me for making you feel like you couldn’t open up around me.”
I hold his hand to my cheek despite the ache from the burgeoning bruise there. “You never made me feel like that. Tito did. Dad did. The fucking organization did. Guards are supposed to be invisible, right? We don’t exist until we’re needed; otherwise, we shut up and keep watch.”
“You’re not a guard anymore, Aron. You’re a don, same as me.”
“Those habits don’t die easily. My first thought in everything I do is to ensure your safety.”
Matt flashes a wry grin, followed by a wince. His jaw is starting to swell. “Everything you do?”
“You started it.”
“Are we good now, Aron?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Good. Let’s get to the docs, then. I want to make sure your cheek isn’t cracked, and we should probably have them check out my jaw.”
Chapter 7
Matt
Mom’s resurgence is affecting me more than I realized. There’s no excuse for snapping at Aron, no excuse for smashing that computer. I’m on edge, and I’ve got to do something about it before it affects the whole Syndicate.
The first thing I do is send a lower-level associate to the twins to get a list of all the components they need to build a new computer. I order three of everything, so they each have an extra laptop in case I fly off the handle again. Then, just because I’m feeling generous, I also throw in a few creature comforts. Headsets—top of the line—new chairs, and, with a little research on the part of my associate, some wall décor featuring the twins’ favorite bands.
With that settled, and with Aron’s permission, I arrange another meeting, this time in front of the full Syndicate. Much as I hate to expose Aron’s shame like this, it’s best that news of Mom’s sick crimes comes from us. I get the feeling that Emily’s true origins will come to light sooner rather than later, and I don’t want anyone to find out from some Empire goon running their mouth.
The mansion I purchased after Javier’s betrayal is vast, complete with a large auditorium. With the humongous screen and the small projection room above, my guess is it was meant to be a theater, but it’s the only room in the mansion that can accommodate all our forces at once.
Since I had ordered our people to convene at the mansion for protection just before I nearly started a war between the two organizations, many of our men and women are already camped out in the auditorium. We’ve been slowly moving people back to their individual homes as we assess and determine their safety, but enough of them remain that it makes gathering everyone much easier.
The next day, Aron and I stand at the front of the auditorium and wait for everyone to get seated. Once the room has settled, we begin.
Before the meeting, Aron and I spent hours arguing in our suite about who should begin. I felt that the Syndicate would take the news better from me, but Aron insisted on being the one to reveal Mom’s scheming. I finally relented, though I’m not happy about it.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the Royal Syndicate. Thank you all for joining us today.” Aron’s tone is brisk and professional, revealing no emotion. “By now, we’re sure you’ve all heard of Lucinda’s miraculous return from the dead. Unfortunately, she has not opted to return to the Royal Syndicate.”
He pauses as the room ripples with gasps and murmurs. A quiet raise of his hand silences them.
“More than that,” he adds, “is the fact that Lucinda has revealed that she is no longer a Mangione. Since her departure from the Syndicate twenty-five years ago, Lucinda is now a Martinez. Yes, that makes her my mother-in-law.
“What you may not know, and what I myself learned just days ago, is that Lucinda bore a child with my father,Javier Martinez. This child was raised by a family outside the organization, unbeknownst to Javier. Lucinda, however, remained in contact with her child.” His gaze stays locked on the crowd, never flinching. “That child, we have learned, is my wife, Emily.”
Thatgets a reaction. Fully half of the gathered associates rise from their seats, shouting in outrage, while the rest gape in shock. Aron tries to quiet them again with another gesture, but the crowd has turned feral. Without averting his gaze, he signals me with a small movement of his other hand.
I had agreed to let him handle this with the stipulation that I be allowed to intervene if he lost control of the meeting. Stepping forward, I take a deep breath and bellow,“Silence!”
Within seconds, the cacophony in the auditorium stops cold.
“If you were paying attention,” I say, my voice dripping with venom, “you’d notice that Aron didn’t know this information until a couple days ago. Do the math, and you’ll see that he returned to the Syndicate the moment he found out.
