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“Do what?” Tex frowned and then reached for the folder. The guys’ smiles fell one by one as the room went quiet.
I knew what they were thinking.
So much war. We’d fought. We’d won. We were powerful in our own rights.
And now we would be hunted.
Because we had too much.
And the old families were pissed.
“Phoenix,” I ground out his name. “Who initiated all of this?”
“The same guy that tried to rape Andrei’s sister had apparently already been paid to set this into motion as well.” He sighed. “Not only is he on here, but so are the rest of the bosses. He convinced them that the world would be a better place where things were fair. And right now, with the Sinacore and Petrov Families aligning along with the Four Families here, we are the most powerful Cosa Nostra in history.”
“Kill or be killed.” I stood and crossed my arms. “Who wants to go first?”
Chase raised his hand like we were playing a game. “I’ll take out one of the weaker bosses, use him as an example, and we can slowly elect new leaders to take over. Easy.”
“Easy,” I repeated and then slammed my hands onto the table just as Santino made his way back into the room. “Why aren’t you guarding Katya?”
“She’s sleeping.” He shrugged and reached for some wine. “Who died?”
I grabbed the folder and handed it to him.
Frowning, he opened it, his jaw flexing.
He was pissed.
Good, I needed him pissed.
I needed a killer.
I needed him to paint Chicago red and let rivers of our enemies’ blood flow down the drains of every neighborhood, reminding everyone who owned them and why.
“Who would you take out first if you were them?” I asked out of curiosity.
“Dante.” Santino swallowed. “Followed by Chase, Nixon, Sergio, and Tex. I’d save Phoenix for last and torture him the most. He deals in secrets, after all.”
“I’ve never been more thankful to have his name next to mine,” Phoenix said under his breath. “Because now”—he stood—“You have no fucking choice. Pick a side.” He trained his gun on Santino and waited. “I’d think very carefully before you speak.”
Santino looked ready to wreck the world. His posture was stiff, his eyes taking in every single detail of the room, calculating his ability to win and escape the path he was being forced into.
There was no escape.
I knew it.
He knew it.
Everyone knew it, but that’s what you do when you’re cornered, you look for an escape first, and then you fight.
He lunged at me first.
Phoenix shot into his left shoulder. “Move again, and it’s your heart.”
“Shit.” Santino grabbed his shoulder and kicked the sofa so hard I’m surprised it didn’t flip. “I’m with you.”
I could see the rest of it in his eyes: hewaswith us. For now. He was on our side. For now. He had no choice. But what about later?
