AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You want to pitch a hissy fit, fine. But like it or not, you’re part of this. Which means no cops, unless you want to get all of us killed. Against my advice, Claudia doesn’t want your body riddled with bullets.” Buzzcut glances over at me. “All of you are in this.”
I nod. Just when I think I have Mackenzie figured out, she turns out to… not be Mackenzie at all. No way am I walking out on her now.
“I’m staying,” Noah says.
Eli glares at us, but he knows he’s not the threat in this room. Buzzcut nods to the sofa, but Eli doesn’t sit. I don’t think he knows how anymore. I’m a horrible fucking person, no question, because I like seeing the Golden Boy look all out-of-sorts. It makes me feel superior for once.
Do you know what else will make me feel superior? More booze. Mmmm, what goes well with rum? But of course, vodka. I swipe a bottle from the trolley and cradle it to my chest like it’s my firstborn child. Noah tries to pry it from my fingers, but I snap my teeth at him and he backs off.
My eyes sweep back to Mac—er, Claudia. My cock’s hard, throbbing against the seam in my jeans as I try to focus my swimming eyes on her face. I thought she was a crazy rich bitch Ice Queen and that was hot enough, but it turns out she’s a crazy gangster heir to a crime empire, and I remember the way she melted into me at Midnight Grotto, and I think we might be written in the stars.
I thrust my hand in the air like we’re in class. “Are we allowed to ask questions, Teach? Because my first question is, can Claudia put on her school uniform with the garters?”
“Gabe,” Noah warns.
“And my second question is, how do we know it’s this Bollywood chap instead of old Uncle Brutus who’s taking potshots at Mac—er, Claudia?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Buzzcut sounds exasperated, which gives me a stab in the gut as it triggers a Dylan memory. Dylan always sounded like that around me, until a few months before his death when he stopped talking to me at all.
“I don’t think Brutus will give up on his leadership just because you threatened him.” Claudia says this guy’s name dully, as though it’s no big deal, but something passes through her eyes – the darkness I’ve seen there sometimes that mirrors my own. I know there’s more to her story than she’s told us. “If he’s figured out who I really am, he’ll have to get rid of me. I’m the legitimate heir, and that means everything in our world. A lot of people disapprove of him killing my father. If they knew Claudia August lives, things would get ugly for him.”
Not half as ugly as what I plan to do to him, the threat echoes in her voice. I’d like to see what she had in mind.
“But it’s also dangerous,” she continues. “There will be many who support me as the legitimate heir because they want to use me to carve up my father’s empire.”
I understand immediately what she’s talking about. I come from a completely different world, but it’s one that’s fueled by the same type of dynastic power. I was supposed to marry a duchess, but instead, I ran away to play in a rock band with my best friend, and I paid for that decision in his blood. Like Claudia, I try to hide in plain sight, but in the end, you can’t run from fucking destiny.
“You’re talking about a forced marriage,” I say. Or, rather, try to say. It takes me a couple of tries to get the words to sound right. I suck on the neck of the bottle. More vodka will make me witty and articulate once more.
“Exactly. If I can’t keep my identity secret, I either have to fight Brutus for control of my father’s empire or risk becoming the possession of a crime lord,” Claudia nods to me. “Neither of these are an option. The Triumvirate isn’t getting their mitts on my pussy.”
“Absolutely not. That precious jewel belongs to Noah and me.” I grin up at Eli. “Sorry, mate. You snooze, you lose.”
“Gabe,” Noah thunders. Eli looks like he might throw up again.
Buzzcut cracks up. “I’m pleased to see you chose such competent soldiers to protect you, Claws.”
I beat my chest. “I’ll have you know I’m exceedingly competent where it counts. In the bedroom. So what’s this Tricycle?”
“Triumvirate,” Noah corrects.
“Thank you, Senator Smarty Pants. What’s that thingamy, then? It sounds like a sexy sports car. Or one of those yogurts with extra probiotics.”
“It’s the three crime families who run the city,” Noah says. Claudia raises her eyebrow at him, and he adds, “My dad started a taskforce to stamp out organized crime in Emerald Beach. It’s a huge part of his platform.”
“Yet he’s willing to hire a Dio hitman to take out Mackenzie Malloy?” Buzzfeed— Buzzcut muses. “Interesting.”
“I’m not defending him,” Noah snaps back.
“Noah’s right,” Claudia says. “Three families have ruled the criminal underground in Emerald Beach for decades. They form the Triumvirate – a ruling council that sets out rules and manages decisions about the empire. My family is in charge of shipping. We traffic anything illegal, mainly drugs and antiquities. Then there’s another family who runs illegal gambling, card games, film sets, anything on the entertainment side. The third family, Dio, are the muscle, the mercenaries, the hired killers.” She exchanges a look with Antony, and even in my inebriated state, I can see there’s more she’s holding back. “None of them know what I look like or that I’m still alive, but if Brutus has figured it out, then someone else can, too. And it throws a fat-ass question mark over other things – I thought Alec was the one who broke into the house and hurt my cat, but now I have to consider other possibilities.”
“Whether he did or not, he deserved what he got,” Noah rasps. “Could Alec be responsible for today?”
“I don’t know. He’d think nothing of shooting at me, but he nearly hit the son of a senator. That’d cause all kinds of trouble for him.” She narrows her eyes at Noah. “You’re his friend. Is this the kind of thing he’d do?”
“I was his friend,” Noah corrects. “I don’t hang out with rapists. It could be Alec. I wouldn’t have believed it, but… I didn’t believe that stunt he pulled in the desert, either. And you did destroy his car and his nose.”
She nods. “I did. But then, I can’t believe he’d be able to pull one over on Tiberius. But neither does this seem like the work of Brutus or Brentwood. None of it makes sense – why cleverly take out Tiberius to get close to the house, but then completely botch my murder with terrible aim and the wrong weapon?”
