I look to my right as Frank starts arguing with Luca, the old Nicolasi boss, the one who’s supposed to be dead. They’re both wearing scarves; naturally, it’s what they do.
Frank’s arguing with him about the correct angle.
“She’s fine!” Luca announces. “I told her it would be fine!”
I can’t be the only one stunned stupid.
“Her and her crazy plans, have fun with that one, King, you deserve her.” He snorts, his silver hair gleaming in the light as he tucks his gun back into his black trousers. “Yells a lot too.”
“So do you,” Frank fires back. “Retirement is for the fucking birds.” He stretches his arms over his head then waves ten of their men over.
I can tell nobody even knows what to say.
That Luca, one of the most powerful men in the mafia to date just, like, rose from the dead or, according to everyone last year, golfing with Satan to save our asses.
“Feels good to be back.” He nods.
“You’re a shit golfer.” Frank rolls his eyes. “The number of times I said fore—”
“Bullshit, I just take my time, my hip’s acting up a bit, and when it gets cold, you know I can’t concentrate.”
Frank sighs, then turns to me. “Smart girl, you got there though; he’s right about that.”
“How did she, you mean Del?” Sergio’s already patched her up and given her a sedative while Roman watches over her before we can leave. “Del? My Del?”
Luca grins. “Came banging on Frank’s door like the world was ending, said she had a plan, and well, here we are, I mean it didn’t go perfect, but you know villains, they can’t help but talk and talk and talk about their plans. Her uncle, not the smartest, so when she found out what he was going to do, we were there to help her formulate a plan that would work, had a little help.”
Frank raises his hand. “Me. I’m the help.”
“Had to call in a favor.” He looks to everyone else. “You all look pretty good, aging like you should.”
Chase speaks up first. “Nixon dyes his hair.”
Nixon shoves him. “And you don’t?”
“Totally natural.”
Phoenix snorts out a laugh. “Bullshit.”
“Okay, person who goes to the tanning booth.” Dante cracks up.
“He gets ‘seasonal affective disorder.’” Sergio makes air quotes, and then I laugh.
I laugh so hard because it’s like me and the rest of my friends, only the ones who established this crazy world.
Eagle Elite University.
Owned by the mafia.
Run by them
And yet, history always has a way of repeating itself, doesn’t it? Sometimes in the best ways. Other times in the worst.
Ash taps me on the shoulder while the older guys bicker.
“Yeah?” I’m exhausted.
“Nikolai,” Ash whispers under his breath. “He says we need to get back to the house as soon as possible.”
The only doctor that can treat my father and create a miracle, and I need to rush from this to that.
I steel myself and nod. “Let’s pack up.”
We leave the FBI behind with a couple of vehicles to make sure that we don’t have any issues, and I walk toward Del, gathering her in my arms and holding her there.
Roman looks like hell.
We share a look after he passes her to me.
“She’s where she belongs,” he says with a nod.
“With both of us,” I say. “Her bodyguard.”
He smiles. “And her king.”
“Holy shit, what did I miss?” Tiffany shouts, interrupting us. “I was told you guys needed backup and like—”
“God, Tiffany!” Roman yells. “Could you have taken any longer?”
She, honest to God, is holding a corn dog. “Got hungry then got a text that you guys had it handled and figured… blood sugar, you know?”
I shake my head. “She is ALL yours.”
Roman narrows his eyes at me while I smile and walk off, feeling at least a little lighter, all because the worst bodyguard in history is holding a corn dog.
Mafia life.
Not normal.
Never normal.
Chapter Forty-Six
“Knights! The gift of freedom is yours by right. But the home we seek resides not in some distant land. It’s in us! And in our actions on this day! If this be our destiny, then so be it. But let history remember that as free men, we chose to make it so.” —‘King Arthur’, 1995
Del
When I wake up, it’s night.
A very attractive man sits next to me, with jet-black hair and even darker eyes, and he is checking my pulse. He’s wearing all black, and his smile is almost sinister, but I’m okay with it.
“Am I dreaming?” I croak.
“Could be a nightmare.” He speaks in a low voice that sends chills rippling down my spine.
“Yeah, okay, back off, Doctor Death,” a voice says.
It’s Chase, the man who gave me away at my wedding, and when I look farther, I see the rest of the bosses in the room and try to sit up.
“No, no,” Chase says. “Lay down; you deserve it. Nikolai here just thought it would be smarter for you to rest so you can heal.”
I rub my eyes. “How long have I been out?”
“Nearly a day.” Phoenix comes up next and sits on the bed. “How do you feel?”
“Like Doctor Death killed me.” I groan.
Nikolai chuckles and inserts something else into my IV, and before I know it, I’m falling asleep again.
I dream of a castle. I dream of the king of that castle and the way he looks at me while my bodyguard watches. I dream of a sword he holds to protect the kingdom, and then I smile in my dream as he passes it over to me—and shares it.
The minute my hands touch the handle, I realize it isn’t as heavy as I thought—because it’s being shared.
I wake up and feel so much better. I stretch my arms over my head only to realize I don’t have an IV anymore, and my side, while achy, feels pretty good.
The door opens.
Serena walks in wearing a black sparkly cocktail dress and red shoes, Izzy follows her, and then the rest of the girls enter.
“I hope you’re ready,” says Kartini, Tanks fiancé. Her dress is also black, her shoes red.
“For?” I yawn. “What’s going on?”
“The commission,” Izzy says. “And the crowning of a king.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Just because you can’t understand something, it doesn’t mean it’s wrong!”—‘The Sword in the Stone’, 1963
King
I’m ready, and I’m not ready.
I’ve lain next to her while she slept. I’ve held her hand while she moaned in her sleep, and now, I hope she’ll stand by my side—while we both rise.
Key members of every Family are in my house, everyone gathered around the living room, candles are lit, wine has been poured.
Each boss wears a mask that represents our new joint Families.
An intricate golden eagle covers half their faces. The women next to them match.