Violet had stepped in front of a loaded gun—for me. And she could’ve been shot dead on my fucking watch.
I wasn’t losing another omega. Not again.
I paced the red carpet in front of my desk, eyes locked on the floor, doing my best to ignore the people in the room with me. I didn’t want to see their faces. Not yet. Not until I figured out how to contain this fire before it turned into a full-blown inferno.
Marco leaned against the bar, arms folded tight across his chest, jacket slipping off one shoulder. Serena sat perched on the edge of my desk, legs swinging like she was waiting for a show to start.
Rocco was somewhere nearby. Fuck Rocco.
He’d told me over a month ago about Logan’s little temper tantrums, and he still hadn’t done a damn thing about it.
“I want the brat dead,” I snapped.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Serena’s smirk. Through the bond, I felt her amusement, and it just pissed me off more.
“Violet could have fucking died,” I reminded her, voice sharp.
Losing an omega wasn’t a mistake you made twice. Not if you wanted to keep breathing.
And I had already made that mistake once.
I let Tony get too close to Xandra. If I’d been more careful, more protective, more present, she and my son would still be here. But I wasn’t. And they weren’t.
Serena didn’t flinch.
“I know,” she said simply. “I’m just wondering why you haven’t killed Logan yet.”
I stopped pacing and stared at her.
Because she was right.
The moment Rocco called and said Logan was acting out, I should’ve put a bullet in his knee, or his mouth. But I’d assumed this kind of petty shit was beneath me. That Rocco could’ve handled it.
“I wasn’t going to start a war without confirmation,” I growled.
The Rossis and Stellars had been at odds since before I was born. Two families, one city, and not enough fucking space. Usually, we stayed on our sides. That was the agreement.
But now?
Now they’d crossed a line.
I dropped into the leather chair behind my desk. My shoulder pulled tight with the motion, but I welcomed the pain. It kept me grounded. Kept me from flipping the desk and launching Rocco out the nearest window.
Serena turned slightly, watching me with that calm, unreadable face.
“Well,” she said, “you’ve got your confirmation now. What are you going to do with it?”
I drummed my fingers against the wood. The leather groaned beneath my forearm.
“I want every Stellar in the city under surveillance. If one of them so much as sneezes in our direction, I want to know.”
Marco stubbed out his cigarette, jaw tight. “You want just eyes, or do we prep muscle too?”
I hesitated.
Violet’s voice echoed in my skull, her small, tremblingpleaseas she begged me not to kill someone.
Did I want to maim Logan? Yes. Did I want to break every finger of every man who took a fucking order from him? Absolutely.
