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1
The nightthe brotherhood superiors fell to their knees before me is a night I can never forget, no matter how badly I want to. After a year of searching for my sister Cara, first for her, then only for her abductors, I finally found myself face-to-face with the men responsible for her death. They kneeled before the Blood King of New Orleans as I and my associates ripped the skin from their bones. As their cries filled my ears and their blood covered my hands, there was a brief moment when I felt justice had been served. My sister had been avenged. But the moment evaded me as quickly as it came when I found my sister, dressed in a tattered, bloodstained nightgown, standing among the tortured corpses left in my wake. It was the first time I saw my sister’s ghost. It’s as if she wanted to tell me this war for vengeance isn’t over. Or perhaps she just wanted to see for herself what her abduction and murder had created—a monster. She has haunted me ever since.
My eyes shift from the golden-brown liquid in my cup to the photograph at the edge of my wooden desk. I guess I like to torture myself as much as others, because every time I see it, the pit in my stomach grows. It was taken when my family was whole. Myself, my sisters, Sophia and Cara, stand with our parents along the white spiral staircase leading into the grand ballroom of our home. It was the last Christmas we shared together before my mother was killed, in these ancient walls no less. New Orleans hasn’t felt like home since, let alone the grand French-inspired estate that’s been in my family since my ancestors immigrated from Sicily in the late 1800s.
With each passing year, my family loses a member. My mother was killed when I was sixteen during a botched hit meant to take out my entire family. My father died last year, nearly twenty years after my mother. Unlike the bullet that took her from me, cancer was his poison. And my sister Cara, she was taken in the night from her dorm room shortly after my father passed and I came to power. The rest you already know. Except, perhaps, one thing, the most important thing.Why?
Why would someone put a hit on my family? Why would my eighteen-year-old sister be ripped from her bed, sold into sex slavery, and killed? It’s because of our blood. We are the Amatos, the gatekeepers of the criminal underworld stretching from the Texas border all the way to the Florida Keys. For the innocent, we are the only thing standing between them and full-on anarchy. Though, they wouldn’t know it. For those privy to this world of darkness to which I unfortunately belong, we are royalty. And like the kings and queens of the past, we are flush with wealth and connections carefully attained by our ancestors and modern-day business deals that help keep our illegal drug trade secret. Our wealth and reputation accompanied by our unique network of connections in Mexico, the Caribbean, Chicago, and New York City make us targets of those looking to make a name for themselves among the world’s most dangerous and vile. But what was once a powerful and untouchable dynasty is now only a brother and sister desperately trying to survive.
I failed Cara. I carry my failure every day. It feels like one hundred cuts split my skin. This photo, her bedroom just down the hall from mine, the memories of her playing repeatedly in my head, even the sound of her name crossing another’s lips sets my skin ablaze like salt rubbed into my one hundred cuts. It’s almost unbearable, and yet, unlike the night I lost myself in the blood of my enemies, I cling to the pain. I cling to it so that I never forget what my enemies are capable of and to justify to myself the horrendous things I must do to maintain control of the throne I never wanted. This throne is my burden, but it is also my lifeline. Because for me and my sister Sophia, there is only one way out of this Hell. And I’ll be damned if I allow Sophia to suffer the same fate as Cara.
As the door to my study squeaks open, I move my hand from my glass of bourbon to the gun holstered beneath my desk. “Alister?” I close my eyes, allowing my racing heart to slow, and remove my finger from the trigger.
“Come in, Sophia.” Sophia enters my wood-paneled office wearing pajamas and a lifeless expression I’ve become too accustomed to. Her raven hair lies limp against her button-down as she places my dinner tray in front of me. “Sorry I missed supper. I guess I lost track of time,” I say as I unbutton the top two buttons of my white dress shirt. She only nods before taking a seat in one of the chairs across from me. I watch as she moves slowly. She, like everyone else, believed the lies I told about Cara’s whereabouts while I searched for her and her abductors. I only told Sophia the truth when I had to. She hasn’t had as much time as I have to make peace with our sister’s death. Though, even after a year, peace is the last thing I feel.
“How was your day?” I ask as I pluck the lid from atop my plate.
“Busy with preparations for tomorrow. The press conference is scheduled for ten a.m. All the requested media has RSVP’d.” At that, I nod and down the rest of my drink. “Yeah, I might need one of those too.” As my eyes meet hers, she presses her lips firmly into a flat line, as if to keep them from quivering. I oblige her request and pour her a glass of the smooth, subtly sweet alcohol. After over a year of lies, there is some relief in the version of events we plan to tell the media tomorrow about Cara’s death. And yet, the burden of the truth weighs heavier than ever.
As the words of the speech I’ve prepared come to me, a chill dances across my tan skin, letting me know she’s here. I look up to find Cara standing behind Sophia. She’s dressed in the same ragged nightgown. Though, for the first time, I find small droplets of tears trickling down her gray-blue skin. I can look at her for only a second before I’m forced to turn away. I wouldn’t mind being haunted by her if she looked like herself. But every time I see her, rather her ghost, I’m reminded of the horror she faced and the pain she endured. I’m reminded that I couldn’t save her. She’s dead because I couldn’t—
“Alister? Are you okay?” Sophia asks.
“Yes, um…” I clear my throat and search my mind for a way to get back to the mundane. “How about the Halloween party? Is there anything left to do for it?” It’s one of the many charitable functions we host to keep up appearances with the New Orleans elite. When I was growing up, it was the most fun of all the parties my mother hosted. Since her passing, I’ve learned it’s nothing more than a cover for a meeting even more elite than the partygoers.
“The party is taken care of. How about you? Have you finished preparing for the annual meeting of the capos?” At that, I lower my fork, returning it to the tray before me. My dark eyes find hers. She isn’t supposed to know about that. “You know, I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner. Grandma always said October 15 is an important day in our family history.”
Sophia has always been the smartest woman in the room, but I highly doubt her intelligence is what alerted her to the centuries-old ritual taking place tomorrow night. “Sophia, I’ve got enough to worry about. I shouldn’t have to add you snooping through my office to the list.”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t invade your sanctum. You forgot to remove their names from the guest list you emailed me.” I nod, annoyed by my mistake but pleased with the small burst of color flushed across Sophia’s cheeks. Though, as her defensiveness leaves her, she is left once more with sallow skin and dim eyes. “You should’ve told me,” she says then.
I take a deep breath and another bite of my dinner before saying the words sure to start an argument. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Like Hell there isn’t!” Sophia yells, prompting me to massage my temples and pour myself another bourbon. “You may be king, but I am just as much a part of this family, thisbusinessas you.”
“Family, yes. Business, no. You know this, Sophia.”
“What I know is that they are one in the same,” she says, leaning forward with a fire in her eyes. “All you do is work, Alister. You’re never here and when you are, you’re in this office, staring into space, studying the security cameras, and doing God only knows what else.”
“And what else would you have me do, Sophia? I’m doing everything I can to keep this family together, to keep us safe. And the only way I know how to do that is to make sure we are strong on all fronts. You handle the legitimate businesses and I handle the other. That’s the arrangement we established after Dad passed and it works—sort of.”
“It doesn’t matter because everything is different now. Cara’s dead, Alister, and—”
“Do you think I need reminding?” At that, my lethal grip shatters my cup. Sharp fragments of glass crush into my palm. The initial sting is followed by a prolonged ache as amber liquid invades the cut. I shake the shards from my hand as Sophia stands and makes her way to the cabinet where I keep the first aid supplies. “Forget it, Soph. It’s just a scratch.”
“Just let me make myself useful,” she bites out. I press my lips together, silencing myself. I hate to fight with my sister, but in times like this, it’s better than the silence otherwise found between us. She has every right to be upset with me, and she is. I kept the truth of our sister’s disappearance and murder from her for a full year before telling her the truth three months ago. There was a part of me that didn’t know if I would tell her, if I’d tell anyone. Not only did I not know how to tell her, I also didn’t want her to have to live with the burden of knowing and yet not knowing.
It took me months to discover who had purchased Cara. And when I finally tracked down the sick bastard, he’d already gotten his fill of her and had disposed of her body. How do you explain that to your little sister? Granted, Sophia is in her late twenties. But, still, how do you say the words? Even now, I can barely get through it. And yet, knowing and not knowing the full truth is only part of why I didn’t tell Sophia what happened to Cara.
Sophia pulls her chair across the red-and-cream-colored rug to sit closer to me while doctoring my hand. My throat aches as I work up the courage to say the words she deserves to hear. She isn’t a kid anymore. In fact, despite my best efforts to keep her safe, she’s the one who saved me when my plan to take down the brotherhood was thwarted. I know I don’t have to protect her from every little thing, even though that very mentality has been engrained in me ever since the night my mother,our mother, was killed. And yet, I can’t help myself. She’s all I have left, and protecting her is the only part of my life that makes sense. It’s the only honorable part of me left.
“Listen, Sophia—”
“Let me go first,” she says, cutting me off. I nod. She exhales as she returns her attention to my hand. “I know you think I’m upset that you didn’t tell me the truth about Cara, and you’re right. I am upset. But the past couple of months have shown me my being upset with you has less to do with the past and more to do with the present.”
“What do you mean?” I wince as Sophia tightens the gauze. She stands and returns the supplies to the cabinet before facing me again.
“When Dad died, it was hard on all of us. Most of all, it was hard on you. Your entire life changed the moment he took his last breath.” My eyes return to the photograph on my desk as she speaks. “So, I was willing to do whatever you needed me to to make the transition to power easier for you. I happily took over the legitimate businesses while you figured out what the Hell it even means to be the Blood King.”
