“We’re opening the books in two weeks. Some of you will finally earn your place in this organization. If you want to be more than an errand boy or enforcer, now is the time to prove yourself. We’re rebuilding, and we need more men in our ranks. Those of you who step up will recruit new blood to our family.” He paused and shot me a sneer before continuing. “Those of you who fail me will get left behind. You will lose your place at this table. Am I understood?”
A chorus of yes, sir rumbled around the table, my cousins practically barking the words in their eagerness. Francesca’s lips twisted like she’d bitten something sour. Father had talked about men proving themselves. She wouldn’t be considered for a more powerful position than the tenuous influence she already held. As a woman, she would never be part of the family hierarchy. Not so long as our father was in charge. He was a strict man who fervently believed in tradition. There was no place for Francesca in his organization, save for the minor advisory role he already allowed her.
I would’ve pitied her if she hadn’t made my life hell since I was thirteen years old. She’d served as my guardian in name only, and the only part of her guardianship I’d appreciated was her neglect. It was far preferable to the verbal torment I’d endured.
You’re the reason Mom is dead. You let them murder her. You’re weak. You will never be a real man.
Her words still cut deep. Mostly because I believed they were true.
This was exactly why I had to blackmail Ron Fitzgerald and secure my family’s rise to power once again. I had to prove my worth. I had to atone.
I straightened my spine and dared to meet my father’s contemptuous glare, allowing him to see the strength of my resolve. His thick black brows rose to his salt and pepper hair, but some of the scornful tension around his mouth eased.
I would be a worthy heir. A worthy son. I would earn my redemption, no matter the cost.
ALLIE
I was going to look into the Bratva and prove to myself that there were no ties between the Russian criminal syndicate and my dad. Max would be furious if he knew.
I’m not the only monster out here. How many times had he warned me to stay away from dangerous men like him, men involved in organized crime?
I hadn’t listened to him then. I’d refused to believe that he was a monster, and I’d dismissed the idea that other dangerous men might be monitoring my actions as I delved into my research on the Mafia case that’d decimated his family. I had recklessly dug into their criminal past, and Max’s sister had shown up at my door with their hulking cousins in tow as she issued veiled threats.
I tipped my chin back as I marched toward Mike’s office with renewed resolve. My dad had definitely been involved with the Mafia case, but I already knew that he couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the Bratva. There would be nothing to find, so I wouldn’t be putting myself in danger.
Max’s furious, warning snarl flashed across my mind, his dark eyes burning into my thoughts. My stomach flipped, and my steps faltered slightly.
I straightened my shoulders and shook off the tremor that rolled through me. Max didn’t get to tell me what to do. He wasn’t part of my life anymore. I wasn’t sure if he had actually come to my house to talk last night or if he’d been stalking me again, but his presence outside the wine bar didn’t change anything; we were done. He was the reason I couldn’t sleep at night, haunted by bloody nightmares of my mother’s death. He had hurt me when I’d made myself vulnerable, and I couldn’t forget that.
Not to mention the fact that we’d met when he kidnapped me and tied me to a chair in his basement. Everything about our relationship was wrong. I needed to purge Max from my life. Once I banished my new nightmares, I might be capable of it.
“Going to brown-nose again, Freckles?” Gavin’s hissed taunt snaked around me from behind, and I jolted at his sudden, menacing presence at my back.
I should’ve kept walking to Mike’s office, but instincts for self-preservation made me turn to keep my eyes on the threat. Gavin’s navy-blue eyes practically glowed with hatred, and his lips peeled back in a smile that was so tight it looked more like a vicious baring of teeth. He loomed over me, barely keeping to the edge of my personal space.
My bully hadn’t cornered me in weeks, not since Max had beaten him up. Gavin’s face was fully healed now, but his arm was still in a sling. He’d told everyone that he’d been mugged, and I hadn’t breathed a word about the truth: that he’d followed me home and drunkenly assaulted me.
I remembered the heat of his groping hands on my body, and a small shudder of revulsion made my limbs twitch. Gavin noted the small sign of my fear, and his mouth curved at the corners. The hatred in his eyes sparked into satisfaction, and he drew in a deep breath, taking in my fear like it was a hit of his favorite drug. He’d been deprived of the pleasure for weeks, and judging by the way he swayed toward me, he’d craved to torment me, to see me squirm.
I squared my shoulders and forced myself into a falsely confident posture, ignoring the way my skin crawled. I wouldn’t take a step back. I couldn’t let him win even that small victory.
“Do you need something, Gavin?” I asked in my most professional voice, pretending he hadn’t insulted me mere seconds ago.
“I need you to stop being such an uptight bitch,” he said in an undertone.
We were alone in the hall that led to Mike’s office. Half a dozen senior colleagues worked nearby, but they were too focused on their own caseloads to bother monitoring two interns.
“You think you’re so much better than me,” he continued, his eyes glittering with malice. “But you’re with that ugly freak. Couldn’t find anyone prettier who’s willing to fuck you, huh?”
Max. He was talking about Max.
A burst of righteous, defensive anger was tempered by a flare of pain at the center of my chest. The insult about Max’s scar made my blood boil, but the reminder of what was broken between us twisted my bruised heart.
I swallowed the unpleasant emotions and carefully schooled my expression to the genial mask I wore at my dad’s fundraisers. “My personal life is none of your concern,” I said coolly. “If you don’t have anything professionally relevant to say, please don’t approach me.”
I was a breath away from telling him to stop harassing me, but I wasn’t ready to resort to that kind of language just yet. Harassment implied the threat of official consequences. No matter how much Gavin triggered me, I wasn’t prepared to get him fired. His father’s political support was too important to my dad’s career for me to risk a rift between our families. Our dads had been friends in college, and Gavin’s father, Kelvin McCrae, had been the one to connect my dad with the Ivanovs. There was too much at stake for me to antagonize Gavin.
The sharp smile that curled his lips twitched into a grimace. “Listen, Freckles,” he seethed, his imposing form swelling with barely suppressed rage. “I don’t know what you—”
“Mr. McCrae.” Mike’s booming voice shattered the tension between us. “Is there a problem here?”
Gavin blanched and reeled back a step, hastily retreating from my personal space.