Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I’m so confused.
I stand watch at the theater room, guarding the rest of the cousins, who are watching Encanto and singing—the bosses made it clear not to tell them what was going on; according to them, it’s a weekend-long slumber party.
Do they really think it’s only going to take a weekend to find the culprit? The only enemy the Families have ever truly had, other than the Russians, has been the De Lange Family.
Are they behind this?
I feel suspicious of everyone. I also feel like something’s off. Who would dare attack the Capo’s wife? It would be like watching the Godfather movie only to see the main characters die within the first five minutes.
You’d have to have balls to do that, and you’d have to have a plan, which means you have participants, you have men and women behind you, but who has that much pull? It would take a lot of money and power in order to even get something like that started, and it would take more than months, possibly years.
I frown and then look down at my phone and send a quick text to King.
Me: Hey man, I have an idea… it could be shit, but…
The door to his office jerks open. “Get in.”
“But I’m watching the—”
“Lance,” he yells at another guard by his door. “Watch the theater room?”
“Whatever you say, boss.” A young guy with blond hair whistles as he walks by me smiles, and takes up guarding the door. He has an FBI jacket on, and I kind of want to punch him in the face; maybe it’s the dimples, or maybe it’s the fact that he looks way too smug on such a dark day.
“Keep them safe.” I jab him in the chest and shove him against the door.
He holds up his hands. “No need to get violent.”
“I’ll show you fucking violent if any of those kids are hurt.” I shove him again because I can and because rank-wise, he has shit on me, and then I walk into King’s office and nearly shit my pants when I notice all of the bosses are still there.
Ties are in disarray.
Alcohol is everywhere.
Shirts are all open, jackets long lost, and I notice even Ash is just sitting on the floor, his head in his hands while Junior pours him a drink and then holds the bottle to his mouth.
So, things are clearly worse than I thought.
Maksim seems to be the only one focused—he’s still wearing his black suit and is pacing—even the older bosses look ready to take a year-long nap.
“Wow, so this is cheerful,” I say.
Chase actually flips me off, which is terrifying. Doesn’t help that both Dante and Dom laugh like it’s funny when I’m ready to run in the opposite direction.
Why are all the bosses and made men insane? Why?
Phoenix and Andrei stare at me like they’re plotting my murder in their heads in graphic detail, like very graphic detail. I wouldn’t be surprised if they somehow found a way to bring back a T-Rex and are imagining its tiny arms ripping off my head and tossing it to a wooly mammoth just to see how long it takes for me to digest.
Perfect.
“Speak.” King lays back in his dad’s leather chair and holds his hands behind his head, and it just feels strange, all of the bosses, the most powerful men I’ve ever known looking to King, someone so very young—for answers.
Maybe that’s part of it, though?
I blow out a breath. “Okay look, I just think that maybe this is more than someone set off a bomb—what if it’s about you going into leadership at your age? No offense to the older guys in here.”
Nixon literally growls.
“But you’re taking up this position because of your bloodline, right? So, what if the whole point was because someone wasn’t happy with letting you have that, right? What if they got in… shit, I don’t know, an argument with your father and then decided to take things into their own hands? What if it’s not an enemy from outside but in?”
The room goes still.
Phoenix is the first to move. He walks over to King’s desk and ruffles through some black folders, scarier than caressing a sharp blade those black folders. “If that’s the case… then we’re all suspects.”
“Oh good, that was helpful. Thank you so very much, Roman!” Junior barks. “Are you kidding me right now? Why would any of us want to hurt our own? Our blood?”
“It makes no sense,” Ash agrees. “We aren’t that dumb!”
“Speak for yourself.” Maksim shows a slight grin while Valerian smacks him on the back of the head and pinches his own nose, muttering a curse. “What?” Maksim rubs the back of his head.
The rest of the bosses watch and then do something that makes me want to crumple onto the floor.