I let my head fall back against the tiled wall. Something inside me breaks, and hopelessness overwhelms me.
Everythingis gone.
My Family, my home, my safety, my future. And now I’m being hunted by someone who should terrify me, but instead makes me feel…
I allow myself exactly thirty seconds of weakness before I straighten my spine against the filthy subway wall. Even here, even now, I’m still a Clemenza. They’ve taken everything else, but they can’t take my name from me.
I won’t let them.
I get to my feet, intending to head back onto the platform proper, but the sound of hurried footsteps makes me glance up sharply. A shadow heralds a new arrival on the platform, wide-shouldered and elongated.
Hefoundme. My heart jumps right up into my throat as the shadow-owner comes into view.
But it’s not the Giuliano.
It’s someone else entirely. Hoodie pulled up, face obscured, moving with the head-swiveling alertness of a man looking for a specific target.
And behind his thigh, held low and angled to stay out of sight, a knife catches the light.
CHAPTER 4
DAMIANO
That golden-eyed Clemenzaprince has led me on quite a chase these last two days.
He’s fast. Fast and sneaky and he has something most of his brethren apparently didn’t have: survival instincts. Most Clemenzas are too busy tripping over their own egos to know when they’re in danger. Not this one. He’s quick as a rabbit and just as easily spooked.
But I was ready for him this time. Knew he’d head to the subway, dive underground in search of safety. So as soon as the damn bouncer turned away to order me a drink, I took off after the Clemenza.
I’ve been keeping tabs on him for years. The last few months, I’ve been paying Giuliano eyes and ears around the city to tip me off on any sightings. Then I stepped up my own personal surveillance, as the Clemenzas began to dwindle in number.
And recently, to piss me off even more, the remaining Clemenza Loyalists have been looking for him, too.
I don’t plan to let anyone get to Caligula Clemenza before I do. Not to kill him. And not to crown him, either.
I pause at the bottom of the station stairs and look around. The fluorescent lights of the subway station flicker a little, but they’re bright enough. I just don’t seehim. My golden-eyed ghost.
He’s here. I fuckingknowit. And the train schedule shows the next one is overdue, which means he hasn’t escaped. Not yet. He’s hiding somewhere. Watching me from the shadows, heart pounding, breath fast.
Maybe I should’ve stayed in the shadows myself for a few more weeks, kept observing instead of intervening. I followed him to his grandfather’s old townhouse last night and hung back as usual, cautious. But I just couldn’t help myself when he came tearing down the street. Some devil impulse made me step out andgrabhim.
I wanted to see him up close at last. Touch him. Smell his fear.
Good thing I did, too, since he was being tailed.
I move deeper into the station. A woman talks loudly and drunkenly into her phone, voice echoing around the tiled walls. A business type stands stiffly at the opposite end, briefcase clutched like a weapon as he stares at me warily. Behind me, another couple descends the stairs, heading home from what must have been a romantic dinner, based on how they can’t stop making eyes at each other.
The rumble of an approaching train vibrates through the platform, heralded by a rush of warm, stale air from the tunnel. It pulls to a halt, the doors open, and the woman on the phone and the businessman get on. The couple stumbles to a seat by the window, where they start eating each other’s faces.
And then I see him.
Not my golden-eyed prey, but another hunter.
A bulky figure in a dark hoodie pulled low over his face, heading fast toward the far end of the platform. He circles around, head turning this way and that, then turns to walk back, frustration in the stomp of his feet.
My gut tells me it’s the same guy from last night. He’s hunting the Clemenza.How fucking dare he…
The train is going to close up and go any second now.
