I rushed forward, toward the center, pushing past three masked men. They tried to hold me back, but I was stronger. Another masked Son tried to block me, and I punched him in the face. He tumbled to the ground.
Just as I reared my fist back to hit another, the vice president shoved a gun in my face.
“Enzo”—he gripped the handle tight—“you have to kill your Fawn.”
I stared coldly into the barrel, close to ignoring it and ramming his face in for even suggesting that. But if I did and he shot me, then I couldn’t save Blair.
“Excuse me,” the man beside him said.
The man I knew in my gut was Blair’s father.
He was short, reminding me of a little gnome. Short-man syndrome, I was sure. He also looked like hell, but I wanted him to look worse.
I ignored the gun in my face and turned to get a better look at Blair’s dad. Then, quickly, before the vice president could even pull the trigger, I bashed my fist into her dad’s face.
“What the hell?” he screamed, cupping his free handover his nose. He gripped a knife in his other one. “This fucker just punched me.”
I smiled in satisfaction, hoping there were broken bones beneath that hand.
With the vice president’s attention on his idiot friend, I stormed around them to find Blair tied to a chair in the center. My eyes met her terrified ones, and I wanted to punch that fucker again. But first, I had to get her out of here.
I needed to rescue my Fawn, and then I could get my vengeance against them for hurting her.
I was only inches away from her when two arms pulled me back to restrain me.
“Did you not hear me correctly?” the vice president asked. “Your Fawn must die.” He took the knife from Blair’s father. “You pledged an oath to us, the Sons, Enzo. Not her. A Son must avenge his brothers. And tonight, you’ll prove whether you’re one of us or whether you’ll be treated as a traitor.”
“Wait a—” Blair’s dad started to say, but the vice president raised his hand to shut him up.
“There’s been a change of plans. You’ll still get your revenge, but I’m questioning this Son’s loyalty to us. We can’t have a traitor among us.”
Being a traitor meant death.
A disloyal Son was a dead Son.
What that meant was, every Son would come forth and stab you as you sat there and bled to death. That punishment was why Daphne’s father had talked as much as he did to the feds and media because he knew if he wasn’t behind bars, then he was a dead man.
I either had to turn on my Fawn or I had to die.
The chamber felt like it was closing in on me.
My eyes were on Blair, taking her in as she fought against the ropes. I noticed a bruise on her cheek as the vice presidentoffered me the knife.
“Make your decision,” he said, now in charge.
Blair’s parents drew back a few steps before the masked Sons circled me. I eyed each mask, attempting to see if I recognized any of them.
“No!” Blair’s father said, running over in an attempt to grab the knife back. “No one else gets this but me!”
“Aht, at,” the vice president said in a patronizing tone, pulling it away too fast. “I got your pardon and the girl. You should be more grateful, Kevin. The circumstances have changed because her Son showed up—to rescue her, I’m sure.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to test him now.”
His attention came back to me as he came closer, attempting to cage me in. “Choose who you’re loyal to. Prove to us that we were right for allowing outsiders into the Sons. Prove that you’re just as worthy as First Benefactor Blood.”
I took the knife from him, knowing that once I declared a loyalty to someone, I couldn’t break it. Loyalty was woven into my bones, layered deep within me. Breaking it was never an option.
For years now, I’d told the Sons I had their backs.
Now, it was time that I proved it.
