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“Five injured. One dead,” Dante replies, his voice like steel. “No one warned the workers in the kitchen, and a woman was stuck in the bathroom during the fire. She died before the firemen could reach her.”
I swore. “This is the second attack.”
“And I’m sure more will come.” There’s a dark look in his eyes. A promise of revenge.
“Let me go after them tonight. I’ll be sure to wipe out every one of those fuckers.” I start to turn, ready to head off and start the bloodbath I’ve been craving.
His hand fell on my shoulder. “I’ve already sent out a team to one of their rat nests.” His lip curls.
“Then I can go with them. They can’t have gotten that much of a head start.” I shake off his hand.
“No.” His order is sharp, freezing me in place. “Not yet.”
“What do you mean ‘not yet’?” I hiss. “I’m your underboss. Let me do my fucking job.”
“Your job isn’t to go running off just to do grunt work,” Dante snapped.
“Then what have I been doing for the past year?” I scoff, crossing my arms.
He eyes me warily. “Training. Which you’ve completed.” He heads towards his car, forcing me to follow. “I heard about the garage. Nice work.”
“I couldn’t get much out of those assholes,” I mutter.
Dante stops, turning to face me again before pointedly looking back at the club. “They retaliated. Which means you did something right.”
I refuse to let his mild praise distract me, no matter how satisfying it is. “So what? Now you just want me to stand by with my thumb up my ass?”
“No. I want you to wait until we hear back from the team I sent out. Then, we can plan a much sweeter revenge.” He shoots me a dark smile. “This is only the beginning, Kill. You’ll have enough blood on your hands soon. You just need to be patient.”
Patience isn’t exactly my strongest suit. I sigh, fingers running through my hair before I remember the gel. Dante’s eyes catch on the movement, noticing everything as he usually does. “Were you on your way to somewhere special?” he asks, noting the dark slacks and tucked-in shirt.
“A date,” I tell him flatly. “With a certain Irishcagna.”
Dante shoots me a warning look. “Yeah, well, that bitch is about to be your wife. But I’m glad you’re taking the initiative to get to know her.”
“Wasn’t my idea,” I mutter.
Dante drops into the driver seat of his black Jaguar XJ. I remember when he first bought the damn thing. I’d been so jealous, wanting one of my own when I turned sixteen. But that was before when I wanted to be like him. Before I’d realized that I would never be him.
“You sure you don’t need me for backup?” I ask hopefully. My hands clenching into fists at my side.
“Go home, Kill. Or go back to your date.”
“Not a date,” I reply automatically.
Dante shoots me one last look before shutting the door in my face. He backs away, and I watch as his headlights disappear around the corner. My gaze shifts back to the club. Or what’s left of it. The firefighters are already packing up, and the police have already disbanded what’s left of the crowd. I turn away, fighting the urge to go after the team Dante had sent out anyway, but I know it would only piss him off if I did.
Niccolo is waiting for me when I return to the car. “So, what’s the plan?”
“We go home,” I tell him darkly, motioning for the driver to start the engine.
Sensing my mood, Niccolo thankfully keeps his mouth shut the entire way home. I stuff my hands in the pockets of my slacks, confused momentarily when I feel lace. Drawing out the fabric, I smile. I’d forgotten I’d knicked these from Cara at the restaurant. She’s probably furious I kept them, which only makes me smile more, distracting me for the moment.
Adrenaline and anger still burns through me even as the driver stops in front of my building. I take the stairs two at a time, stalking through the lobby and ignoring the security guards stationed at the front desk as I jab the elevator’s button. My jacket hangs from my fingers over my shoulder, my fist curling around Cara’s panties in my pocket. I swipe my card before pressing the button for my floor.
I’d bought this penthouse as soon as Sienna had given me my money back after declaring me her underboss. Dante had signed everything over to her while on his little revenge spree, which included my inheritance. Now that money was safely back where it belonged. I couldn’t stay in my family’s mansion after it had been shot up. And I couldn’t exactly stay with my brother and his family in their new home forever. To me, this represented a fresh start. A new life. To my right, the living room extended towards the city with floor-to-ceiling windows that gave me a one-eighty view of New York.
The walls had been repainted a matte black with scarlet furniture to match. Black and gray marble led from the living room to the kitchen and down the hall towards the bedrooms and my own private office. I’d bought some art pieces to hang on the walls, courtesy of Layla, one of Dante’s ex-flings and a killer black market art dealer. But there isn’t much in the way of decor, just some gold wall lamps and a few abstract stone statues thrown here and there by the interior designer I’d hired.
