Tone
Archie stopped at the doorway.
Blood marked his mouth. His chest rose and fell, every breath painful. But it wasn’t the injuries that made him look wrecked.
It was me.
He turned back and looked straight at me like the rest of the room didn’t exist. Not my brother standing between us. Not the aftermath of what they’d done to each other. Just me.
“Come with me.”
His voice was more a plea than a command.
Raze shifted beside me, like he was about to step in, shut it down, end it before the possibility even had a chance to breathe—but Archie didn’t look at him. He didn’t even acknowledge him, effectively telling my brother that this had nothing to do with him.
“Now,” Archie added, quieter this time. Rougher. “Come with me, Antonella.”
My heart stuttered. For one reckless, impossible second, I saw the possibility just enough to feel it take shape.
Leaving.
Walking out of this house, this life, this blood-soaked legacy I’d been born into. Following him into something unknown. Something unstable. Something that didn’t come with rules or protection or guarantees.
Just him. Just us.
My throat tightened. Because it wasn’t just fear that rose up.
It was desire. Dangerous, consuming want.
And that terrified me more than anything.
Because I didn’t know him.
I knew the version of him that sat across from my family, that played ally when it suited him. I knew the man who played with violence like it was second nature to him. But I didn’t know what came after.
Behind me, Raze let out a low, disbelieving sound. “You’ve got some nerve—”
“Stay out of it,” Archie said, not even looking at him.
My pulse spiked. Because he wasn’t asking.
He was offering me something irreversible. A choice. And suddenly, the room felt too small to hold it.
“Tone,” he said again, and this time my name sounded different in his mouth. A plea that cracked straight through me.
I swallowed hard, my ribs aching with the motion, grounding me just enough to think. To remember.
This house. My family. Everything I’d built here, survived here, fought for.
The life I knew.
Versus…
Him.
A man I barely understood. A future I couldn’t see. A fall I might not survive.
My hands curled at my sides.
God, I wanted to. That was the worst part.
I wanted to step forward. Close the distance. Choose him and damn the consequences. But desire wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
“I can’t.”
His face fell when I said the words, shattered.
“You can’t,” he repeated.
He wasn’t angry, or even surprised.
I forced myself to hold his gaze. “I won’t.”
That hurt him more. I saw it. Felt it. And still—I didn’t move. I didn’t step toward him. I didn’t choose him.
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.
Then he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Like he’d expected no less.
“Yeah,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.
And just like that, he turned and walked out without a second look.
I stood watching him walk away, my chest caving in from the inside out.
Raze said something, but I didn’t hear it. Because all I could see was the space Archie had just vacated.
All I could feel was the choice I’d just made. The one I couldn’t take back.
I closed my eyes for a second, and when I opened them again, the room tilted slightly. My ribs protested when I breathed too deep, a sharp reminder of exactly how we got here.
“Tone—”
“Don’t.”
My voice came out raw.
Raze went quiet behind me.
I turned slowly, facing him for the first time since he threw me across the room. For the first time, I really looked at him.
My brother. My blood. The man who taught me how to fight to survive, how to carve space for myself in a world that would rather eat me alive.
“Leave me the fuck alone,” I said.
His jaw tightened. “You think I’m just going to walk in here, find that—” he gestured violently to the bed, the room, me, “—and say nothing?”
“I think,” I cut in, stepping forward despite the protest in my side, “you don’t get to decide what I do with my body.”
His eyes flashed. “That’s not what this is about.”
“Isn’t it?” I let out a hollow laugh. “Because it looks a lot like you storming in here and acting like I’m incapable of making my own decisions.”
His nostrils flared. “He’s not just some guy, Tone.”
“No,” I snapped. “He’s not.”
And that was the problem. That was the whole, ugly, bleeding problem.
Raze dragged a hand through his hair, pacing once like a caged animal before turning back to me. “Of all people—” his voice broke then hardened again, “—you had to pick the Russian?”
I didn’t miss the hint of betrayal in his voice. I felt it settle like a blade between my ribs.
I shook my head slowly, disbelief threading through the pain. “You don’t get to say that like you had no part in this.”
He scoffed. “Don’t twist this—”
“No,” I fired back, louder now. “You don’t get to rewrite history because it suits you.”
I took another step closer, forcing him to see me. To hear me.
“You brought him into our world,” I said. “You. Atlas. Marcello. All of you. You gave him a seat at the table. You trusted him. You worked with him. You made him—” my voice caught, just for a second, before I forced it steady, “—you made him part of my life.”
Raze’s expression flickered, but I didn’t let up.
“And now you’re standing here acting shocked that I—what? Noticed him? Got attached to him?”
His face darkened instantly. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t use ‘attached’ and Archie in the same sentence,” he growled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I felt the words as they landed right in the centre of my chest.
“You think I don’t know how I feel?” I asked, quieter now. More dangerous.
“You have no idea how you feel! I know men like him,” Raze shot back. “And they don’t stay. They don’t build anything. They take, and they leave you to deal with the wreckage.”
A bitter smile pulled at my lips. “Funny. That sounds familiar.”
His expression shuttered for a second.
“And what?” he continued. “You’re just going to walk out of here? Walk away from everything—for him?”
The question hung between us, ugly and exposed. Because for a second, I had considered it.
I swallowed hard, forcing the thought down before it could take root again. “That’s none of your Goddamn business.”
“The fuck it isn’t, Tone! It’s my damn business when something puts you in danger.”
“I’m already in danger, Raze!” I snapped, my control finally cracking. “That’s the life we live, remember? The one I was born into right alongside you?”
His chest rose sharply. Silence crashed between us. Heavy, final.
“Don’t see him again.”
The words were quiet. Deadly. More than a mere suggestion, they were a command.
I stared at him. Something inside me shifted, then broke.
“You don’t get to ask that of me.”
“I just did.”
“And I’m telling you no.”
His eyes narrowed. “You dare to defy me?”
“I think this is my life,” I fired back. “And I’m done having it dictated by the men around me.”
His jaw locked. “You’re not seeing him again.”
“And what if I do?” I challenged, stepping into his space now, reckless and furious. “What then? Are you going to throw me across the room again? Lock me up? Kill him?”
Something dangerous flickered in his gaze.
“That’s exactly what I’ll do.”
For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Because I believed he would do it.
I let out a slow, shaky breath and shook my head, something cold settling into my bones.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m protecting you.”
“No,” I corrected, my voice dropping. “Just like every other time, you’re controlling me.”
His face hardened. “Same thing.”
My hands curled into fists at my sides.
We stood there, breathing hard, the room still wrecked around us. Two sides of the same bloodline. At war.
Finally, I shook my head and stepped back, exhaustion crashing in behind the adrenaline.
“Get out,” I hissed.
He blinked. “What?”
“Get. Out.”
“Tone—”
“Leave me the fuck alone, Raze.”