“They’re not escaping, Matt.”
“You escaped. I escaped. I think maybe you’re placing too much faith in … fuck, I don’t know what. Our capabilities? The fact that they’re women?”
Aron deflects the question by calling in the next associate, and he doesn’t give me time to retort until the last man has a mission. By then, it’s well into the night, and we’re both beyond exhausted.
“You never answered me, Aron.”
He arches his brows, but the bemused expression doesn’t quite reach his tired eyes. “I didn’t, did I?”
Grabbing his arm, I stop him from getting up. “Aron, please. This isn’t a joke. If either Emily or Mom escape, we’ll both be dead. I doubt they’ll be sentimental enough to go easy on us because you’re Emily’s husband or because I’m Lucinda’s son.”
“And we won’t go easy on them, either.” He pulls his arm out of my grasp. “Matt, I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed and deal with this when Enzo reports back.”
“This is not a ‘when Enzo reports back’ situation!”
Aron’s gaze breaks from mine, and he turns his back on me. “You said you trusted me.”
“I do, but—”
“Enzo will bring Lucinda and Emily to a location of my choosing. He’ll secure them. He’ll call us, and we’ll go take care of things. By the time we’re done with our fucked-up family, the Empire will be in shambles.”
“What constitutes ‘done’ with our family?”
He barks out a bitter laugh. “W.W.T.D., Matt. What would Tito do?”
With that, he leaves. I follow him out, thinking about his last words in the office.
There isn’t much Dad wouldn’t have done to an enemy. But to Mom? To Aron’s wife? I can’t answer those. Dad adored Lucinda, but he had no clue what was going on behind the scenes. He didn’t know she survived the car bomb, didn’t know she married Javier, didn’t know about Emily. What might Dad have done if he’d known about all that treachery and betrayal?
Since Aron’s not being forthcoming, I revisit Dad’s old business practices, lessons he taught me from an early age.
Dad was big on making the punishment fit the crime. For a man who hated any task that involved art or design, he was very creative in that aspect of his life. He followed the spirit of “an eye for an eye,” if not the exact passage. Thieves might not have to endure the Biblical punishment of amputation, for example, but he made damn sure they’d never use their hands again to slight him.
I have no qualms about enforcing the Royal Syndicate’s rules through violence, and Emily and Mom definitely broke more than a few rules. Hell, Emily’s very existence breaks the rules. Maybe that’s Aron’s point: We’ve got to follow Don Tito’s rules if we’re going to survive this.
By the time we get to our bedroom, I’ve got the beginnings of a migraine to add to my throbbing jaw and aching ribs. As soon as Aron shuts the door, I make a beeline for the medicine cabinet—then the liquor cabinet. Come Hell or high water, I’ll stop this pounding in my skull.
Chapter 10
Matt
No sex for us tonight. Between the argument and me getting smashed, neither of us is in the mood. We strip out of our suits, tend to each other’s wounds in various stages of healing, and crawl under the covers.
Rain patters on the windows as a late-night storm sets in. Thunder rumbles outside, and I feel sorry for whoever’s on patrol tonight.
I half expect Aron to stay on the other side of the bed. His mood is so mercurial today that maybe he needs a bit of space. Instead, though, he curls up behind me, playing the big spoon.
“I thought you were mad,” I say, slurring slightly.
“I can’t let your drunk ass fall out of bed.”
Well, at least part of him still cares. “I can’t drink now?”
He sighs and rubs my arm. “You can drink, but maybe not quite so much. We both need to stay sharp. We could have had Dr. Nilczek give you something for the headache.”
A long silence drags on for several minutes. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around applying Tito-style vengeance to my own mother and half-sister. Then it hits me: That’s my problem. I’m viewing them in relation to me and not the Royal Syndicate, andperhaps that’s what Aron’s doing, too. Since he got the worst of their betrayal, perhaps he’s planning on the worst possible punishment.
We need to stop being selfish. We need to reverse our thought patterns and meet in the middle.
