Chapter 1 Miko
MIKO
One Year Later
Vito’s text sounds innocuous enough, nothing the Feds could use to implicate us in the illicit deal we just settled with the Benito family, but it confirms that their payment came in—behind schedule, but not late enough to merit removing the patriarch’s head.
The little bit of pressure I applied on him yesterday was enough to convince Alfredo that we’re not the kind of family he wants to jerk around.
Good.
I might be talented at making an example of people, but it’s not a task I relish.
If only the Tanakas were that easy to keep in line.
But despite our new alliance with the Yakuza, the business venture Don Augusta negotiated with Tatsuo and Kenji has been rather rocky so far.
I slip my phone into the breast pocket of my suit jacket as I continue down the familiar hallway leading to the main foyer of the Chiaroscuro house, and as I lift my gaze, my brow quirks.
My brother Leo is at the top of the steps, his dark eyes flashing as he strides toward me.
He doesn’t usually seek me out—Sandro yes, but Leo, never.
As the natural-born heir to the Chiaroscuro empire, Leo’s used to people coming to him, not the other way around.
I might be the eldest Chiaroscuro son, but not by blood.
Don Augusta took me in off the streets as an infant.
He adopted me, raised me, and honed me into a lethal weapon, an impenetrable shield to stand beside his rightful heir.
As such, I’m usually the one tasked with hunting Leo down when he goes AWOL.
And considering Leo prefers rebelling against his father and the path the Don has laid out for him every chance he gets, keeping track of my brother is something of a full-time job.
So, seeing Leo in my wing of the house is somewhat disconcerting.
“You lost, Brother?” I tease as I close the distance between us.
Leo snorts, his signature smirk curving the corners of his lips as he turns to walk beside me. “Hardly. For the first time, I feel like I’ve found myself. But I can’t find Sora, and I needed to tell somebody, so you’re my lucky number two.”
“I’m honored,” I say dryly, my curiosity piqued. “But where’s your wife? You run her off already?”
“Ha. If I were capable of that, she would have been long gone by now.”
The rich affection in his tone is even more prevalent than when we were discussing Sora on the yacht yesterday, and I can sense a shift in my restless younger brother that I never thought I would.
Leo might have hated the arrangement when the Don told him he would be marrying the Tanaka girl, but against all odds, and despite my brother’s affinity for keeping his women on a constant rotation, I think Leo might actually be falling in love with his wife.
I’ve never seen him so protective—or possessive—of a woman.
Not that I blame him.
Sora might be the daughter of a family we considered our sworn enemy less than a year ago, but since Don Augusta negotiated a truce with the Yakuza and brought her into our home, she’s pleasantly surprised us all.
“She is a resilient one?” I observe.
“Hmm.” Leo’s hum of amusement confirms my suspicions. He’s definitely smitten.
“She’s important to you, isn’t she?” I ask, intrigued by the change in him that’s happened over a matter of months. But I already know the answer, and something twists inside me.
I’ve never been jealous of my younger brother.
I don’t envy Leo the crown Don Augusta intends to pass on to him.
I don’t yearn for the attention he receives for being incredibly handsome, by any girl’s standards, not to mention the chosen one our father favors.
I like my role in this life.
I’m good at it. I was formed under intense pressure, sculpted by fire, chiseled into an invincible demon meant to thrive in the shadows of our violent world—and yet, the thought of having a woman I would scorch the earth for… I’ve never pictured wanting that. Until now.
“She is my wife,” Leo points out, seeming oblivious to my inner turmoil.
And maybe that’s all it is. Maybe swearing to be with her, to love and protect her, creates the kind of connection Leo has with Sora, but I doubt it. What they have is special.
It’s raw and unfiltered and instinctually passionate—despite the obstacles they faced.
And for the first time, I find myself wishing I knew what it was like to be Leo.
“Yeah, but this is something else,” I state. “I’ve seen you around a lot of girls. I know when you have something physical going on. But with Sora, you’re different. You’re protective of her.”
Leo huffs, but even that sounds unconvincingly skeptical. I stop to study my brother as the silence stretches between us, and he turns to me.
The look in his eye is something I’ve never seen before. It holds a solemn resolve, a grave conviction, and the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach warns me of what’s coming.
Somewhere, deep in my soul, I always knew this day would come. The day when my brother would walk away from this life, away from his family—away from me.
He’s never wanted any of it. I just never thought a woman would be the reason Leo chose to give up his father’s legacy.
“What’s going on, Leo?” I press because I need to hear him say it—even if I already know what he sought me out to tell me.
Sighing, he rubs the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the ground. “I—”
But before he can get the words out, a massive boom ripples across the grounds, shaking the foundations of the house.
We both turn toward the source of the unexpected noise, and the hair on the nape of my neck stands on end as I sense more than see what caused it.
“That sounded like it came from the front gate,” I state flatly.
Another resounding crash echoes around us, the vibrations rippling the floor beneath my feet, and the following screech of metal on metal is like nails on a chalkboard that sends a shiver down my spine.
Then sharp footsteps rush across the marble floor below us. Leo and I share a glance, then bolt for the stairs, racing toward the source of the disturbance.
Staff members flit across the entry in every direction, their expressions frightened, their movements tense and hurried.
Several of the guards stationed around the property come barreling through the front door, nearly knocking the family butler off his feet as they burst inside.
“What’s going on?” Leo demands, striding purposefully toward them.
I’m right behind, my eyes searching through the open door for any immediate threat.
“We’re under attack,” one man gasps, his face pale and slick with sweat. “They’ve battered through the front gates, sir—they’re already inside the property lines.”
“Who is?” Leo asks, as we reach the front door.
“From what I can tell? The Irish, the Russians… the Japanese.”
“What?” my brother growls, his tone incredulous.
I’ll admit, as little as I trusted the Tanaka family, I didn’t expect they would openly betray us.
Not after selling off their only daughter to marry our future Don.
Glass shatters to our left, and someone screams as a Molotov cocktail flies through the window, exploding in a liquid burst of flame against the wall.
Fury rips through me, and I grab a fistful of Leo’s suit, shoving him further into the protection of our home as I storm outside to assess the situation.
There’s no gunfire—not yet, at least—which tells me the Japanese are leading the charge.
Their skill with close combat and blades means they’ve probably killed our men stationed at the front gate—which they’ve battered down.
Smoke billows from the guard’s booth to the east of the brick pillars that used to secure the wrought iron entry point.
Now, the sturdy metal has been bent and twisted into a grizzly, gaping maw that spews silent Yakuza warriors and smirking Russians, knives and makeshift explosives in hand.
Leading the charge is Kenji—head of the Tanaka-kai and Sora’s older brother. Unlike his men, who wield a combination of blades, Kenji has a Russian Makarov, much like the one Pyotr Novikov—reigning Pakhan of the Novikov Bratva—is holding.
It would seem the Murrays have entered the fray as well—those Irish bastards who entice my brother Sandro into their fighting pits every week like we’re friends.
Kenji leans out the open door of his SUV, flat palm pounding on the roof as he shouts in Japanese, and the Escalade comes screeching to a stop at the foot of our front steps, spraying gravel far enough to reach me.
Leo emerges from the house beside me, his expression grim.
“Get back inside,” I command, pushing him toward the house once again.
“Not a chance. I’m going to kill that bastard,” he growls, his eyes locked on Kenji.
“Do you have a gun?” I demand, continuing to force him backward as I shield him with my body.
“I don’t need a gun. I’ll kill him with my bare hands,” Leo snarls.
If I had any doubts about his feelings for Sora, they’re gone now.
Leo’s half crazed with bloodlust, and I know it’s because Kenji nearly got her killed while we were supposed to be having a relaxing day on the yacht yesterday.
But right now, we don’t have time to settle petty scores.
Judging by the numbers, Kenji and his allies aren’t here to send a message.
They’ve come to raze us to the ground.
“Yeah, well Kenji has a gun, so you’re going to need more than that to get close to him,” I point out, giving Leo another shove.
This time, he doesn’t resist, and with another snarl, he turns back toward the entry—no doubt to find the closest firearm he can use to put a bullet between Kenji’s eyes.
“Hold them off as long as you can,” I command the two guards, taking cover behind the pillars of the front porch and leaning out to place carefully aimed shots. I need to stay close to Leo.
He’s in no state of mind to be left to his own devices.
And considering he’s the heir to the Chiaroscuro empire, I have no doubt he’s going to be the main target in this attack.
But before I can reach the front door, glass shatters against the threshold.
Flames erupt between me and the foyer, liquid accelerant splattering my suit as they trap me outside.