“Maybe?” I whisper, still struggling to catch my breath and calm my racing heart.
Maximo tilts his head, studying me. “Do you actually think you could do it? Watch the men who killed your father die?”
“Help me find them,” I say through clenched teeth, “and I’ll kill them myself.”
“Brave words, Ms. Monroe. But revenge is an empty endeavor. You want to inflict pain on someone else to end the pain you’re feeling. It doesn’t work that way.”
I huff out a bark of laughter. “Don’t lecture me on revenge when you run an empire built on retaliation. My father is dead. The only home I’ve ever known has been burned to the ground. All I have left to look forward to now is finding the people responsible and making them pay. I stupidly thought you would want the same since he was under your protection. My father deserved better.”
“I know he did,” Maximo replies. His voice loses all warmth, smoothing into something cold and absolute. “That’swhy I won’t stop until I find who is to blame and make them regret moving against one of my own.”
It’s a relief to hear his promise, to know that we’ve found a common ground that leaves me feeling a little less alone than I’ve felt in days.
“Here’s a detail that not many people know: I believe there’s a traitor in my crew,” Maximo admits quietly. “Your father’s restaurant drop dates and times weren’t common knowledge. Someone sold him out. I’m working to find out who and why.”
My breath whooshes out of my lungs as if I’ve been punched. It’s not an easy truth to hear, but at least it’s a starting point.
“This isn’t going to be an easy road to go down, Ms. Monroe. And there’s no turning back once you do. Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. But something heavy and cold immediately lands on my chest, as if a part of me knows I should think this through a little longer.
“Fine. Get your revenge. But understand something, Ms. Monroe.” He leans in, his body radiating heat, his gaze cutting into me. “Your disrespectful behavior today is unacceptable going forward. My word is law in this house. Do you think you can follow my orders without losing your temper again?”
I swallow hard, considering his warning for a long moment. “I can’t live with what’s been done,” I reply. “If you can help me get justice for my father, then I’ll do whatever you say.”
He holds out his hand. “Then we have a deal. You’ll stay here until this is through.”
Stay here, in this mansion, with him? I open my mouth to refuse, but my options are fairly limited.
That’s why I swallow my objection and place my hand in his.
Maximo’s grip is firm. Too firm. Not a handshake, but a claim.
He calls it a deal, but I know better.
Nothing in his world comes without a price.
And as I pull my hand free from his bruising grip, a chill settles beneath my skin, the kind that whispers I’ve just traded something I’ll never get back.
I’ve made a revenge pact with a mob boss.
And some part of me already knows it won’t just change my life.
It’ll changeme.
2
Maximo Luciani
Constance Monroe.
The woman stormed into my house dripping rainwater, called me a son of a bitch to my fucking face, stabbed her finger into my chest, wrung her hair out on my shoes, and didn’t flinch when half a dozen armed men aimed guns at her. And I invited her to stay.
Jesus Christ.
I’ve dealt with senators, serial killers, heroin traffickers, and kings of empires. None of them has ever stood toe-to-toe with me on my own damn staircase and refused to back down.
But she did.
