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GREY
After the text blast goes out, it takes less than fifteen minutes for all of the leaders of Chicago’s crime families to be assembled, far less time than it used to take a hundred years ago between our ancestors. Arden Rossi shows up first, alone. She watches me with a weariness in her eyes that I realize probably shines in my own, and she doesn’t say a word as she takes the seat to my right hand.
Where she belongs.
My heart constricts with a feeling I’m not sure I understand—pride, warmth, something that shouldn’t be there. But there isn’t any time to think about it, not as the rest of the leaders file in one by one, each giving a curious glance to Arden’s not so subtle position at my side.
“Where is Delilah?” I say after a moment, glancing at Arden.
To my surprise, she gives a bitter frown, avoiding my gaze. “She didn’t think it was important,” she says dryly, but there’s a hoarse edge of something else in there—hurt.
I slip my hand under the table, grazing her thigh where I find her own hand. I pick it up and give it a gentle squeeze, letting it go after half a second, realizing what I just did.
I can’t… She’s my enemy.
Is she, though? All my life, I was taught by my father that the Calvos family hated the Rossis, but for what? For tradition? For some stupid feud between our families more than a hundred years ago?
“Why are we here, Calvos?” Helio Castillo, a hard man with graying but fashionable slicked back hair asks. His son, Danny, sits by his side, a near carbon copy of his father. Only his son is ten times the man Helio is. “We haven’t used the blast since the first time it was announced.”
“Which is the point,” Alexander Kova butts it. “We haven’t needed it.” He turns back to me, his dark eyes staring into mine accusingly. “I was in the middle of a pair of twins. This better be good.”
I mentally cringe. Alexander has a wife who is very much, and perhaps tragically, still in love with him. He makes it no secret that he likes to find pleasure outside of his marriage, and aside from my own father, he’s the third most misogynistic bastard I know.
The second being Helio, who I notice with no grim amount of hatred, hasn’t brought his daughter, Magnolia, with him. This is the twenty-first fucking century, and everyone else has their daughters and sons with them, leaders and heirs to the mafia. Hell, even Alexander’s oldest daughter, Dorian, sits at his side, looking blankly at the solid onyx table we sit around, lost in thought. I’ve never understood what her problem is, but I have a feeling it has to do with some feud between my cousin Henri, who sits at my side, purposely looking anywhere but her.
Their problem, not mine.
“Where is your daughter, Helio?” I say slowly, staring at him.
He stares right back. “She’s back at home. Perhaps sleeping, perhaps watching a movie. Hopefully the first option. I don’t know.”
“Why isn’t she here?” I can feel the heat of Arden’s skin, her thigh so close to mine, but I ignore the ember of arousal in my chest.
“Because she isn’t part of the business,” he says with a tone that says I should have known better.
I glance at Danny, Magnolia’s older brother, and his best friend, Jackson. They’re both biting their tongues, knowing this is as stupid as I think it is, but Jackson’s eyes seem especially stormy, like he’s ready to punch Helio in the fucking teeth if he says another word.
“Well,” I say, leaning forward in my seat. I give each of the leaders and heirs a pointed look. “There is no easy way to say this. My father was killed, and there’s another hit that has been put out.” My gaze ends on Helio. “It’s for your daughter, Magnolia.”
Arden gasps next to me, and even Dorian looks up, her eyes wide with shock. A murmur goes through the room, interrupted as Jackson shoves his chair back with a scrapeagainst the floor, pounding his fist against the table. Catching his breath, he seems to realize that everyone is now staring at him, and he turns away from us to pace the room.
I don’t know what’s going on there, but again—
Not my problem.
What my problem is, is the fact that Magnolia’s life is in danger, and her sorry-ass excuse of a father looks less than worried.
“I suggest you bring your daughter back so that we can discuss her safety with her present,” I say firmly.
“Why should I do that?” he counters.
My blood boils, but this time, it’s Arden who reaches out underneath the table, putting a soothing hand on my thigh.
What the fuck has happened to us? I wonder in some distant place, some distant place that’s still absolutely fucking reeling from what happened between us in the bathroom, with my cock buried in her pussy, with those sweet little noises she made that caused my head to spin and my knees to go weak.
I take a short breath, calming myself. Arden’s hand slips away, and she stares at Helio.
“Are you not concerned for your own daughter’s safety, Helio?” she asks. “It seems like of all people who should be here, learning about this hit, it would be the person whose life is in danger.” Arden glances at me.
