In our family, I was the one who got information. Seduction, blackmail, threats—whatever got the job done. I was an expert at figuring out leverage, uncovering weaknesses, and then using it all to my advantage.
And I was damn good at what I did.
Which made the current situation really fucking frustrating.
I hadn’t been able to find shit on Morales’s campaign.
Mother viewed him as an existential threat to us. My orders were to figure out who was funding him—because no way was it all grassroots donations. The man was too well-connected, too well-supported for that. None of us bought his sappy story about his dead brother being the real reason he was doing all this. Someone was using him to get to us.
The question was who.
Alessio rubbed his jaw. “He’s sticking to his message. If he gets elected, it’ll be bad for business.”
I wanted to believe otherwise. Just because Morales wanted to take us down didn’t mean he could.
We’d been exceedingly careful.
But all he needed was one weak link.
“If he is being funded with dirty money, they covered up their tracks well,” I said.
Harper’s husband was a banker at Credit First—the bank Morales’s campaign used. He liked to monologue Harper about his clients during dinner, spilling confidential details to a wife who hated his guts.
She told me everything she knew, but none of it was what I needed.
Which meant I had no use for her anymore.
With Harper officially out of the picture, I needed a new target—someone with insight into Morales’s finances.
“Now, I have a special guest I’d like to bring on stage. My beautiful, talented daughter, Mia. Can you please help me welcome her?”
The camera panned over the cheering audience.
“The daughter?” I asked. “Is this the first time he’s bringing her out?”
Alessio bumped me with his knee. “Have you been living under a rock? She’s always with him at these things.”
I hadn’t been watching the rallies. Why would I when Mother gave me what felt like daily updates on the future mayor’s statements? The last thing I wanted to do when I got home was hear more from him.
The camera panned back to the stage, showing someone walking on.
And the moment it did, the world around me fell away.
Alessio’s voice faded. The room disappeared.
It was just me, that TV, andher.
What. The.Fuck.
The girl I’d pinned beneath me five minutes ago.
Slowly, I opened my palm. The traces of her bite were still there. It was real. I hadn’t hallucinated having Mia Morales,the future mayor’s fucking daughter, biting me in Messero’s guest room.
“Dude, what’s your problem?” Alessio sputtered as I shot off the sofa. “Where are you going?”
I didn’t answer. I just ran.
Ten seconds later, I was tearing the front door open.
