Page 118 of Married to the Devil

And now it’s finished.

I sink into my seat. I let the room see me as I stare down at my hands, at the tattoos on my knuckles.

ASHES.

Is that all I’ve ever been?

Everything I’ve given to these men. All the sacrifices I’ve made.

I could’ve had more time with Hattie and June.

But instead, I hid them away and I threw myself into the family’s work.

Only to end up beaten by a traitor.

36

RAFE

Ignazio’s sneering only worsens as he strides around the table like a preening peacock. “You all know I’m right!” he shouts at the last few holdouts. Loyal and loud Rocco hurls insults, God bless him for it, while my brothers remain grimly silent. Devlin restraining himself visibly. Cassian looking like he’s ready to kill the whole lot of them.

“Today we’ll take control of the Corvino organization from the corrupt brothers. They call themselves the Lords of Ashes, but I say they’re nothing more than thugs and bastards in pretty suits.” Ignazio returns to his position at the far end of the room, looking like he’s won.

And right now, it feels that way.

Has it always been this bad?

“We take the vote.” My voice is gentle but everyone hears it. I push heavily to my feet. No matter how this goes, I’ll deal with it. “No more talk. You all know where I stand and how I feel about this merger. You’ve listened to Ignazio, the traitor, and you can decide what you think now. No more talk, no more insults. We vote.”

Silas takes his cue. He claps sharply. “All those in favor, stand.”

Men climb to their feet slowly. All four of my brothers first. I join them, proud and tall. Rocco leaps up, glaring at the rest of the gathering.

“You fucking pussies gonna stay down this whole time?” he snaps.

More get up. Men I’ve known all my life. Men I’ve raised from nothing, given positions of power, and built into giants of the city. But more stay where they are, staring at their drinks, at their cigars, at anywhere but me.

At the Don who gave them everything.

My heart breaks. It’s close, like we thought, but Ignazio’s diatribe must’ve scared—or convinced—a few of those who weren’t sure.

In the end, there are slightly more than half of the gathering still in their seats.

“That’s it,” Ignazio says, sounding triumphant. “That’s the end. I hereby announce⁠—“

He doesn’t finish. I draw the gun I’ve had in my jacket, aim it at his face, and pull the trigger.

It’s a good shot. A handgun from across a large room is far from a guaranteed hit. But my bullet strikes true, bashing straight through Ignazio’s mouth, scattering teeth, rending tongue, blasting blood and gore from the back of his neck.

His corpse crumbles as more guns are drawn.

Every man on his feet is armed. Rocco has two knives for some reason. He looks around sheepishly at the handguns.

“What is this?” Enzo Palladino pushes back from the table, pale and terrified. “What the fuck is this, Rafe?”

“You made your choice. This is the only way. To avoid a civil war, we end it now, before the fighting has a chance to begin.”

“Fuck you!” Gio Palladino shouts. “What the fuck? This is crazy! We were just voting!”