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“No, that won’t work,” Soph murmurs. “It just shows dissent in the ranks. Even if they don’t agree with what he did, they’ve gotta stand behind it. Pastore’s going to demand blood, and the blood of a dying man isn’t worth shit. That means he’ll come for the strongest and make a statement.”
ARCHER
“Emilio Pastore’s birthday is coming up.” Felix grabs a chair from the edge of the pool and carries it across the yard to the covered patio area. Setting it down with a slam so timber chips from the feet and flies across the concrete, he pays the debris no attention as he steps around and slumps down into the seat. “He’s hosting this thing at his beach house tomorrow night. Black tie, fancy clothes, lotsa diamonds. He’s got a guest list, a menu that verges toward a thousand dollars a plate, and catering staff whose backgrounds are being run through security.”
Looking to Tim, he adds, “Pastore hasalwaysdone this shit. The dinner party. The showing off. At least… he was doing it before his arrest. Now he has cred to earn back, and enough glitters to fake it till he makes it. That means it’s entirely predictable that he’s gonna dress his birthday up and take the opportunity to socialize . He wants to show everyone he’s back, he’s big, and he ain’t afraid. Which means he made damn sure Cordoza was invited.”
“So, what?” Drawing his attention to me, I study the dangerous glint in Felix’s eyes. “You wanna walk into that party and make a mess? Risk pissing Cordoza off?”
He only shrugs. Always the brother who jumps first, then figures out the consequences later. “I say we turn up, look that motherfucker in the eye, and give him a chance to hand Micah over without losing his head. We’ll be on his turf. In his house. That’s disrespect he can’t walk away from, so either he fights, or he backs down. Regardless, we stand strong and bring home what’s ours.”
“Good.” I nod like what he says makes complete sense. “Sure. So we open up a gunfight in the middle of his house. Risk Cordoza getting shot. Gamble on the fact we might get shot too, knowing Pastore will have his fucking army in every corner of that house, and they sure as hell won’t protect us. And in the end, we limp outta there with our brother—who is injured, bleeding, weak, and probably most of the way dead.” I push up from my seat and run my fingers through my hair in frustration. “Are you fucking serious, Felix? How is that a plan?”
“It’s a plan because I’ve already got men inside Pastore’s army.” He remains seated. Relaxed. And amused as I pace the patio area.
“Cordoza will be protected. Micah’s already at the house.” He grins when I peer across, then runs the tips of his fingers across his shoulder. “I have confirmation already and eyes on him as of about,” he looks down at his watch, “twenty-three minutes ago. Pastore has no fucking clue we’re inside. He’ll have guards at checkpoints all the way up to the house, which he’ll expect to keep us away. So when we walk through the front door and lift a glass of champagne to toast him being another year closer to his grave, he’ll have a choice to make: accept our disrespect and submit to the fuckin’ bosses, or shoot. And if he shoots first with Cordoza in residence, he’s dead anyway. You know how Estefan feels about that.”
“So you’re just gonna bait him?” Tim rubs a hand across his face. “Force him to start a war? And you don’t think he’ll turn around and do the same to you in a month? Worse, he’ll wait for when Arch and I are gone again! Cato’s just a kid, Micah’s already injured… Don’t you see? We’re already breaking down. We’re weak. So do you think it’s possible that just fuckingmaybethis family isn’t meant to be in the business anymore?”
“Like hell we aren’t,” he sneers.
“Is this really what you want?” Tim pushes up from his seat so the legs scrape the ground. “To fight for the rest of your life? To gamble with your safety, skirt prison sentences, and grow old as a man with a target on his back?”
Unconcerned, Felix shrugs. “I should give it all up and sling drinks, right?” He looks over at me. “Or become a cop and pretend my name isn’t synonymous withtraitor? You’d seriously have me step aside and throw all this away?”
“Well, why are you keeping it?” Tim counters. “To make Dad proud? To continue tradition? This isn’t a mom-and-pop store we wanna see succeed, Lix! There’s life outside these walls. Peace. We don’t have to walk into another man’s living room and dare him to shoot us or suck our cocks.”
“Mm…” Felix cups his cock and runs his tongue along his top teeth. “Ya think Pastore will suck my dick before the end of his birthday dinner? Because I’m not gonna lie; I wouldn’t stop him.”
“You’re a fucking idiot.” Circling away from his chair, Tim stalks past me and stops by the pool.
Cato and Felix remain sitting, unbothered, while those of us who’ve experienced life outside New York can hardly contain the frustration this shit etches into our bones.
“There are normal people out there, Felix.” He stops at the edge of the tile and turns back. “Normal, happy, non-violent people who never have to worry about some other asshole stepping into their home and slaughtering a bloodline.”
“And her name is Aubree Emeri,” our suicidal brother singsongs in response.
Cato sits a little taller. More alert.
“She’s so pretty, and so very innocent,” Felix purses his lips. “Yeah, Tim, I know. But just because vanilla makes you hard doesn’t mean I want a taste of it.” Then he drops his head back and laughs. “Unless, of course, you’re willing to share. In which case, sure, I’ll have a taste.”
Tim spins back and charges. “Dammit, Felix—”
“Hey!” I sprint from my place and stop in front of my oldest brother before he kills the other. “Fuck, enough already.” I shove him back so hard, we both hear the thud of my hands on his chest. The boom of our clash, and the rage bottled in our veins.
When I know he’ll stay put, I turn to Felix and sneer, “You’ve been warned, asshole. We all know you’re the special one. The one who can’t control his impulses, and doesn’t mind fucking three women at once, while four dudes watch on and one of them shoves something in your ass. We know you’re strange, and ‘edgy’,” I roll my eyes. “We know you’re a fucking mess. But you’ve been warned about talking about her. Aubree is off-limits. She’snothingto you. But you won’t listen! Which means eventually, you’re gonna get hurt.”
He scoffs, nonchalant, and reaching toward the small table in the middle of the chairs, he picks up a glass of water and brings it closer to his lips. “They’re not even dating, Arch. Hell, last I heard, she didn’t wanna hear his name. So no,” pinky out, he sips his water, not noticing when Tim steps around me. “She’snotoff-limits. Because she ain’t his. And even in the case of a woman belonging to a man, like yours,” he lifts the glass away, oblivious to the fact Tim prowls closer. Closer. “You’re married, and still, I’d fuck Minka if she crooked her finger.” He glances across at me, smiling, baiting.
But that smile drops away when he finds me standing all alone.
“Where’d—”
“You’ve run out of warnings,” comes a growl.
Stopping behind Felix, Tim reaches around with lightning-fast hands and snatches the glass away, then he swings it down and shatters the whole thing on the side of Felix’s head so sharp shards spray wide. Water explodes, glass pings in every direction, and blood flows free.
Felix skitters out of reach before Tim can take a second shot.
