Page 80 of King of War

Fuck, and the emotional grenades just keep on coming. “They were mine too, baby. I’m sorry I fucked it all up for us.”

“I know you are. And it wasn’t just you.”

She snuggles closer, and I wrap both arms around her now, wondering if I can hold on tight enough so that I never have to let her go again. I’m not sure I’ll survive her leaving next time; I barely survived before. Tomorrow I face Carmine. She’s determined to be by my side when I do it, and I can’t blame her for wanting to look that fuck in the eyes when he meets his maker. But tonight, it’s just me and her in our own little bubble of heaven. I just need to figure out a way to stop that bubble ever bursting.

Chapter

Forty

ENZO

Irun over the plan again, and my brothers are in full agreement. Rayne, not so much.

“So, I get to sit outside with a babysitter—again?” she asks, arms folded across her chest.

Luca rolls his eyes. As her designated babysitter for today, he could give me shit for making him sit part of this out, but unlike her, he recognizes that, besides me, he’s her best protection. “No. You get to stay outside with Luca until I give him the signal that it’s safe to bring you in.”

She bristles, still not convinced. Fuck me, she’s infuriating. Still inherently adorable though.

“You want to be in the middle of it all? Possibly bullets whizzing past your head and blood and brains all over the floor?” I ask her. I doubt any of that will happen, but there’s no guarantee.

She blanches at my words. “No, but just…” She swallows. “Just be careful. And don’t leave me out completely. I want my chance to look that sack of dogshit in the eyes.”

I cup her jaw in my hand, run my thumb over the plump bow of her lip. “I promise you’ll get your chance, baby, but not until it’s safe.”

She stares at me, her eyes shining with tears, and I recognize her brattiness for what it really is. Fear. I press her to the wall, kiss her softly, my tongue exploring her mouth. Rafael mutters something I can’t hear, and Micah clears his throat. But fuck my brothers—this could be the last time I ever kiss my girl again. While I’m well-prepared and I’m determined to kill Carmine, who knows what could happen in the aftermath. That’s why she’s going to be safe with Luca, and if things do go south, then he’ll get her out of here and somewhere safe. New identity. New city. A new life without any of this.

She melts into me, hands fisting in my hair, like she knows it could be the last time too. I grind myself into her, cock already hard and aching to take her back to bed. “I’ll be careful,” I murmur against her lips. “I really want to take you to bed tonight and finish this.”

She smiles. “You’d better.”

Luca and Rayne remain in the SUV behind us, parking along the curb a few hundred yards away while Micah, Rafael, and I head straight for Carmine’s house. The gate opens before we even reach it. The guy manning it gives me the same half nod he’s given me for ten years and waves us through. My brothers and I have been coming to this house since we were kids— birthdays, funerals, the endless meetings Carmine insisted on having with me.

“Looks like he’s expecting us,” Rafael says, peering out of the window in the back.

“Of course he is. I’m certain Nero came straight here after our meeting yesterday. Are your people in place?”

Rafael nods. “Ready to roll if we get any unexpected pushback, or if the Bianchis and the Mancinis have drummed up any kind of support. They can be in here in minutes.”

“Good.”

We don’t meet any resistance getting into the house. Too public out here on the driveway. The front doors were already open and we step inside. Twelve of Carmine’s men stand in the hallway. I recognize all of them, know some better than others. Philip at the foot of the stairs, he used to play on the football team with Luca back in high school. Tony, whose kid I helped deliver when his wife went into labor during a blackout. Oliver Green steps out of the shadows, gives me a nod of recognition. But there in the middle of them all, Nero and Marco Mancini, prancing around like ringmasters, only better dressed I’ll give them that.

“You showed up?” Nero says. He glances around the place like he owns it. “Wow, you’ve got some balls, Enzo,” he says.

“More than you, fuckface,” I tell him, striding confidently down the hallway, Rafael and Micah beside me. We all have guns, but we don’t need to draw them. Not here. There won’t be any bloody battle in here today, unless Rafael’s army of thugs don’t do their part. But the war inside these walls has already been won. It was won in every single act of respect and mercy my brothers and I have shown every man in this room over the past ten years while I’ve been Carmine’s second, stacked up against every humiliation and affront he has inflicted. That’s the true art of war. Knowing the strength of every single player on the board and moving them into position before a single drop of blood is shed.

Nobody reaches for a weapon. Nobody challenges me.

Philip straightens up as we get close. “He’s in his study.”

“What the fuck?” Nero yells. “What the hell are you doing?” He pulls his gun, points it at me, stepping closer until the cold metal is pressed to my forehead. His hand trembles. Mine do not.

Beside me I feel Rafael and Micah ready to strike, but they don’t move.

“Take that goddamn gun out of my face or I will ram it down your throat,” I say, my voice low but deadly.

Marco shifts from one foot to the other, glancing between us and the guards and his brother. “Don’t even fucking think about it, jackass. Because I would love nothing more than to put a bullet between your fucking eyes,” Micah says, cool and calm, in total contrast to the Mancini brothers.