Rafe
The front of my truck smashes through the gate.
Metal parts like butter and sparks across the driveway. No time to slow down. I hit
the gas harder, nearly swerving out of control up the ste ep hill, barreling toward the
house in a frenzy.
Dread fills me.
There are no guards on duty.
Nobody manning the front. Nobody walking the trees. I’ve never come through
here without spotting at least a half-dozen well-armed men before.
Cold horror spreads into my toes.
Is the problem bigger than I thought? Are they all traitors?
I can’t dwell on it. Not right now. If I’m too late, I don’t know what I’m going to do.
My daughter, my wife, my entire world is in that mansion, and if either of them are
hurt, if they’re taken as hostages, used as leverage—
I’ll slaughter everyone in volved.
Death will be a mercy for any man who tried to harm my child and my woman.
Tires screech as I slam the brakes. The mansion looks quiet. I fling myself from the
front seat and spring up the st eps to the door. I hesitate, thinking I should be more
careful, if someone’s waiting on the other side I might be walking into a trap—
But to hell with my own life.
I kick the door open and storm in, gun drawn and ready. I clear the front room in
hunting mode, quickly speeding along the first floor, heading back to the kitchens.
The scent of blood hits hard.
June. Hattie. Oh fucking Christ. Please, no.
I enter, scanning the space with my weapon.
Clean counters. Immaculately organized pots and pans. I take a st ep forward
slowly, the smell of blood sharper now, and there’s a groan toward the back.
A trail of fresh, sticky red’s on the floor. I follow it and slow, heart thudding, to
find Byron lying on his side near the back door.
The big chef’s eyes are half closed. Sweat’s beading his forehead. Blood’s leaking
from a wound in his chest. He’s clearly only half alive. I crouch beside him and put a
hand on his arm.
“What happened?”
His gaze focuses. “I tried... I’m sorry...”
“Byron. Where is my wife?”
“Running... always running... never... please... hurts...”
Fuck. I’m losing him. I shake his arm. “You have to stay with me. Where is June?
Where is my daughter?”
A moment of lucidity. “Upstairs.” But it quickly fades. “Upstairs... heaven, God, I
hope... I miss...”
His body goes still and he lets out a long exhale.
Fuck. Byron.
He was a good man. I remember meeting him for the first time years ago. He was
a young chef in Philly. I sponsored him back then, paid some of his bills, got him jobs,
helped him grow. When he got sick of commercial kitchens, he came to work for me,
and we haven’t been far apart since.
Now he’s dead.
But June isn’t.
I stand and swe ep the room one last time, making sure I’m not missing anything,
before I start to the staff staircase. Byron used the last of his strength to give me one
message.
Upstairs.
That must be where June’s hiding.
I force myself to ke ep a steady pace. Someone’s still in this house. Byron’s wound
was bad and he must’ve only been shot a few minutes ago. I likely didn’t hear the gun
go off over the sound of my truck’s engine.
Which means I’m not too late.
BANG.
It’s a loud, violent thud, like someone trying to break down a door.
BANG. BANG. BANG—
I run up the last few st eps and burst out into the hallway. I sprint toward that
sound—BANG, BANG, BANG—and only come around the corner to Marnie’s room as
Nunzio kicks down the door, wood splintering around him.
No!
June must be inside. There’s screaming, scared women, and I think one of them is
my wife. I roar, moving faster than I ever have before. If he hurts her—if he fucking
touches her—
“... should’ve just done this the easy way,” Nunzio’s saying as I throw myself into
the room behind him.
The scene’s chaotic. June’s on her knees in front of Nunzio. He’s got his hand
wrapped around my wife’s throat. She’s hitting him and struggling, but she can’t get
away. Priya’s holding Hattie tightly in the corner, shielding her face, and my little
girl’s sobbing and screaming for her mother. Marnie’s on the floor, teeth gritted in
pain, like she’s trying to crawl over to June to help but doesn’t have the strength.
I take it all in. The moment assaults me, and I feel something inside my heart
break.
Nunzio grunts as my bullet takes him in the back. I stride forward, his grip on June
going slack. I smash him in the back of the skull with my gun and grab his weapon
from his hand, wrenching it free and throwing it aside. Nunzio turns, stunned, a red
bloom on his chest, his mouth working in shock as I pummel him to the floor.
“I TRUSTED YOU,” I scream as I beat him. “I TRUSTED YOU WITH EVERYTHING,
YOU BASTARD!”
I stand above Nunzio, breathing hard. My head of security stares at me, his face
twisted and battered, one eye wrecked, his nose crooked, his mouth a bloody ruin.
Red bubbles form on his lips as he wheezes for air.
“Wasn’t... about you...” He forces words from de ep in his traitor’s body.
“I don’t want to hear it.” Burning with outrage, I raise the gun. “You stabbed me in
the back. You turned on my family. On my fucking wife and child. I trusted you.”
“My father... I had to... Ignazio... the money...” He lets out a broken sob. “I’m
sorry, Rafe.”
“Sorry isn’t enough.”
I’m about to pull the trigger when June puts her hand on my wrist. “Rafe, wait.”
She’s the only person in the world who could make me pause right now. I look at
her, rage and heartbreak warring in my chest. “I treated him like a brother. I gave
him everything.” I remember Nunzio, back when he first joined the family, a young
and hungry dickhead with a massive ego and a chip on his shoulder. I taught him to
control himself, to be d ependable, to be a leader.
If he needed more money, he could’ve come to me.
Instead, he did this.
“Rafe, Hattie’s here.”
I tense like lightning struck me. I look to where Priya’s cowering with Hattie. Grim
determination fills me. “Get her out of here.”
“Rafe—“
“Now,” I bark at Priya. “Get her away.”
“Yes, sir.” Priya stands, murmuring to my girl. “It’ll be okay, your father’s here
now. You’re safe, we’re all safe.” As Priya goes to leave, Hattie looks up, and for a
moment our eyes meet.
There’s a hardness in her. I’ve never noticed it before. But it’s there now, and it
scares me.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she says as Priya hurries with her from the room.
Nunzio’s a crying mess at my feet. He’s half dead already. He’ll be gone in
moments. I put my boot on his chest and press, making him groan in agony. “Go help
Marnie,” I tell June. “And don’t watch.”
She hesitates. There’s fear in her expression now. But she nods once and hurries
to get Marnie back into bed.
I lean down and talk quietly to Nunzio.
“Your name will burn in hell alongside your soul. I’ll make sure the world knows
you were nothing but a traitor who hurt women and children. You’ll be remembered
as the sick fucking monster you are. That’s your legacy now. It’s ruin. It’s ash.”
“Rafe,” he gasps, crying and shaking. “No. Please.”
I press the gun to his head. “You deserved worse.”
I pull the trigger.
Nunzio’s skull bursts from the point-blank bullet. Blood and brainmatter stain my
shoes and slacks. I remain where I am for a moment, looking at the ruin of my former
friend and trusted ally.
It’s always been ash. Everything around me has burned from the moment I was old
enough to understand. Nothing is permanent, not loyalty, not friendship.
But blood—and love—
I turn to find June tucking Marnie back into bed. I shove my gun back into my
waistband.
“You’re a good friend,” I tell Marnie. “You were trying to help her, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, well, I fucked up the first time.” She grimaces and smiles sadly. “Couldn’t
do much this time either.”
“You’re better than half the trash I have working for me.” I hold out a hand to June
and pull her to me. I kiss her hard, holding her tight, making sure she’s not hurt. “Are
you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” she promises, running her hands through my hair. Tears fall freely
down her cheeks. “God, Rafe, I was so scared he was going to hurt Hattie.”
“Never again. I swear it, love. Never, ever again.”
“What are we going to do?”
“First, we’re going to make sure you’re all really okay. Then we’re going to take
care of our enemies the only way I know how.”
“With blood?”
“Blood and fire, baby. Blood and fucking fire.”