—Tristan— Kate was in full-blown Christmas mode. She’d decorated every area of the house she was allowed into. I knew she would have loved to wield her magic in my wing as well, but she wasn’t that daring yet. Good for her, because I was in a fucking foul mood, had been for days, and today was the worst of all. The scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the house as I read the email from Max, the organizer of our races. Everything had been set up for the biggest race we’d ever held. Damian wasn’t happy I decided to end it in Kansas City after the last incident, but I wanted to make a fucking point. The Cavelleros had been surprisingly careful in their attacks. An ambush here and there, a few dismembered soldiers, but nothing major. Until three days ago when they killed my fucking Underboss in Kansas City. A warning not to get so close to their territory. Maybe the beginning of more. Ending the race anywhere else would have s
—Ellie— Dad was antsy. He kept checking his phone, which rested beside his plate. He usually didn’t have his phone on display when we had dinner. It was our family time. Mom brought a spoon with pureed sweet potato in an arch to Isabella’s waiting mouth; she smacked her lips happily around the food. I, on the other hand, tried to stop Samuel from throwing his food around. He didn’t like being fed and preferred to shove food into his mouth by himself, but he was still too small for that and made too much of a mess. I held his small hands so he couldn’t grab the spoon and brought it to his mouth. It took three attempts before he accepted the food. “They are cute but watching them eat is a bit disgusting,” Arianna said, her nose wrinkled. “And since they started eating normal food as well, their diapers stink.” Dad frowned, obviously unhappy about the topic. He could eat dinner while someone was tortured right in front of hi
—Ellie— The house they took me to was a shabby three-story building close to the tracks, located in the industrial part of New York. When we stepped inside, my eyes registered Drake first. He had his arms crossed and was staring at a screen on a table against one wall. Beside him stood my uncle Salvador, as usual dressed in a suit, but his jacket was already slung over a chair that sat in front of the screen, and he had rolled up his sleeves. My stomach turned. I’d never seen him with rolled up sleeves, and I knew why. I had never been around when he’d tortured someone. There was another man, one of Dad’s soldiers, who was working at a laptop, probably establishing the Darknet connection. They turned when we entered, and all eyes zeroed in on me. I wasn’t supposed to be here. My uncle frowned and came toward us. Drake stayed where he was, but he, too, watched me. I wasn’t his fiancé anymore. I was nothing to him. My sister was p
—Tristan— Kate was asleep with her head in Damian’s lap. It was early afternoon, so I didn’t understand how she could be tired. Maybe Damian kept her awake all night. I frowned then drew my gaze back to the screen where the race was playing out. The number of participants was staggering. They had to start from different spots, all the same distance from Kansas City, to divert the attention of the police. A few of them would be arrested like usual, but that was part of the game. Eventually the different routes would merge to one for the last 100 miles before the end. Car racing brought in good money, but I didn’t really care for it. I preferred cage fighting. Savio ate another bite of the cake Kate had baked. “Do you think Adam has a crush on that whore?" “C.J.,” Nico said. “Whatever. He’s been in the Sugar Trap an awful lot. They’re definitely fucking. And come on, he spent the night with her again. What is he doing wi
—Tristan— I pressed the blade against my palm when Adam appeared on the screen. He was slumped forward on a chair. When they started cutting him, Adam’s scream filled the airplane, blaring from the speakers mercilessly, and fuck, they were the first screams in forever that got under my skin. The first since her screams. I cut into my palm, deep, drawing blood. Savio gripped the armrest of the seat, his arms shaking. Damian was behind me, one hand digging into my shoulder. Drake was next and took out a lighter. I jumped to my feet, shaking with rage ... so much rage, it threatened to rip me apart. Adam’s eyes widened. Fuck, he was a kid. He wasn’t like us. This was supposed to be me. I was supposed to burn for them. Drake touched the flame to Adam’s skin, and his screams got louder. I reached for my phone again, knowing that Salvador would reject my call like before and hating this fucking sense of helplessness. I was suppose
—Tristan— Damian, Savio, and I linked arms, pressing over the tattoo of the other. “You will be a better Don than me, Damian. You won’t kill people who might be useful to us. Your logic will make the Russo clan even stronger.” Damian didn’t say anything, only stared at me. Savio shook his head. “Tristan, let’s attack them. I’d rather die fighting than have you in their fucking hands.” I smiled darkly. “You will have to die another day. I will pay for my sins.” Damian made a low sound. “She didn’t return, Tristan. She stayed in Minneapolis. They won’t let you anywhere near her. You will die for nothing.” “No, I will die so she gets what she wants.” Damian pulled away. “Damn it. Be reasonable for once.” “I made my decision and you will accept it.” Cars pulled up, and I moved away from my brothers who took shelter inside the car. Damian and Savio raised their guns through the open windows. I wasn’t armed as I walked towa
—Ellie— Mateo punched Tristan’s face, but he only laughed darkly as blood spattered on the ground. “This is your chance to ask for forgiveness,” Dad said. Tristan looked from each of them until his eyes finally settled on me. “Do you want me to beg for forgiveness?” His eyes dragged me down fiercely, mercilessly, irrevocably as they’d always done. As they always would. “I won’t give you my forgiveness,” I said quietly. Something flickered in Tristan’s eyes, but Mateo and Drake wrenched him away from my view, down the corridor into their torture chamber. Dad kissed my temple. “We will avenge you, make him pay for what he did.” He walked away, leaving me with my uncle, who regarded me with calm scrutiny. He touched my shoulder lightly, and I met his gaze. “He will ask for forgiveness in the end,” he promised. I briefly touched his hand. “I don’t want him to because it would be false.” Tristan did everything
—Ellie— Dad and my uncle didn’t come home that evening. They would spend the night in the safe house. Safe house. What a name for a house to torture enemies. After Mateo had made sure I was okay, he drove back there as well. Maybe they were worried Tristan might manage to escape or maybe they wanted to keep torturing him throughout the night. Probably the latter. I grabbed a bag and packed a few things for Isabella and Samuel. Then I walked down into the basement where we kept our weapons as well as other necessities in case of an attack. I perused the display of guns and knives. I strapped a gun holster to my chest over my T-shirt. It allowed me to strap a gun and a knife to my sides as well as another gun to my back. Just to be on the safe side, I added a knife holster to my calf. I had chosen loose linen pants for the occasion just for that purpose. After that I rummaged through the medical supplies. Mateo had explained every