“Could’ve fooled me,” I mutter. “Last I checked, your family stood with the Yakuza when they tried to burn our house to the ground. You were there when my father’s blood hit the floor.”
His smile doesn’t waver, though the men behind him stiffen. “It was business. Nothing personal. But business turns sour fast when your partners refuse to pay their debts.”
“So, now you want to switch sides.” It’s nothing more than I expected, but still, I’m not ready to let it go without question. I cross my arms, studying them. “Tell me—what’s stopping me from putting a bullet in your head for the betrayal?”
Callum doesn’t flinch. “Because you need us.”
The words hang in the air like smoke.
I hate that part of me agrees with him. In truth, this is exactly what Sandro and I have been hoping for, for months.
But now that it’s here—now that they’re coming to us—I can’t help but listen to the tingling intuition at the base of my neck that’s warning me they can’t be trusted.
Still, the Chiaroscuro empire isn’t what it used to be. We’ve got Miko’s crew, a decent army of loyal Russian soldiers who will stand behind the true heir to the Novikov empire.
And the Lombardis—Evi’s family, who are bound to us through not just marriage but by blood now that my brother’s wife is carrying his children—are critical allies.
But it’s not enough.
The Yakuza have the manpower, the money, the territory.
If I don’t find a way to even the odds, we are going to drown.
Callum leans forward. “We have resources. Men. Weapons. We know the inner workings of the Yakuza’s network. We can help you take them down.”
“And your price?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “A lasting alliance between our families.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “And after what you’ve done, you think I’ll believe for a second that you won’t turn around and betray me the moment it’s convenient? Tell me, what could possibly make a ‘lasting alliance’ in your eyes?”
He smirks faintly. “A marriage will seal it.”
I blink. “You can’t be serious.”
“But I am.”
“You came here to barter your daughter?” I sneer, my pulse kicking up a notch.
That’s when Aisling Murray steps forward.
I hadn’t even seen her behind her father’s towering sons.
But when my eyes land on her, for a second, I forget to breathe.
She’s older now—her face sharper, blue eyes harder—but I would recognize her anywhere.
Burgundy hair that shines like spun copper in the waning sunlight, the azure gaze that pierces straight through me, a smattering of freckles that makes her button nose look impossibly more adorable, and an air of defiance that still radiates from her like a live wire.
I’m screwed.
2
AISLING
I thought I was ready to see him again.
But as Raf’s sharp hazel eyes find mine, it feels as though I’ve been stripped naked—vulnerable and exposed.
