Chapter 10
Vincenzo
The silence is deafening.
I stand in the center of the ring, shirtless and bleeding, tasting copper. My ribs scream where the mountain landed his hits. Sweat stings the cuts on my face. The raven tattoo sprawls across my chest, black wings stark against blood-smeared skin.
Around me, a circle of Dervishi soldiers stare at me with murder in their eyes. Guns glint under the harsh lights. Thirty, maybe forty weapons are trained on me from every angle.
There’s no way out. I’m fucked, and so is Adora if she isn’t dashing out the nearest door right this moment.
I scan the crowd anyway, looking for an exit. The warehouse doors are too far, and there are too many bodies between me and freedom. Even if I could fight my way to Adora—and I can’t, not against this many armed men—I’d be dead before I made it three steps.
At least it’ll be quick.
At least I’ll see them again soon.
Mom. Dad. Valentina. Marco. Dante. I wanted to kill Agnello first, and avenge you all before I left this earth.
I’m sorry I failed you.
Movement at the edge of my vision. Someone pushing through the crowd, shoving past soldiers who try to block her path.
No.
No.
Adora.
Panic floods my veins, colder than any fear I have for myself. She’s going to reveal who she is and die trying to save me.
She breaks through the circle and strides toward me like she owns the place. Gone is the nervous girl who flinched at violence. This woman moves with confidence, hips swaying, chin up, every inch the sassy streetwise date I brought to the fight. Her eyes blaze with determination.
“Tell them, baby.”
Her voice carries across the warehouse, and the crowd falls silent.
I stare at her, unable to process what’s happening. She’s going to get herself killed.
“Who the fuck are you?” A soldier steps forward, gun still trained on me but eyes sliding to Adora.
She spares him the smallest, most withering glance I’ve ever seen. Like he’s an insect beneath her notice.
Then she looks back at me. “Tell them you’re sick of working for the Vicis and you want to switch to the winning side.”
Understanding hits me like lightning.
She’s giving me a cover story. The disgruntled Vici soldier, a defector who wants to join the other side.
“Fuck the Vicis.” I turn slowly, meeting the eyes of the men surrounding me. “They’re finished. My don is hiding in his mansion, and the rest of us are bleeding out for a family that doesn’t give a shit about us.”
Murmurs ripple through the crowd. I can sense them wanting to believe every word I’m saying.
“So why the fuck are you here?” another soldier demands.
“I wanted to prove myself to you all tonight.” I spread my arms, showcasing the tattoo. “This ink? It’s a death sentence. But the Dervishis?” I gesture toward the VIP section, toward Aleksander and Dashamir. “You’re taking over this city. You’re the future, and I want to fight with you.”
The crowd roars their approval.
Not all of the soldiers look impressed. Some still look suspicious, guns raised, but Adora and I have done enough to create doubt. Enough to keep me breathing.
Adora slides her hand into mine, gazing up at me with adoration, playing her part perfectly. The loyal girlfriend who convinced her man to switch sides.
I think she just saved my life.
Doe is my guardian angel.
A Dervishi soldier approaches, older than the others, with a scorpion tattooed on his throat. He studies me for a long moment. Adora’s hand tenses in mine.
“The krye wants to meet you,” he says finally. “Here.”
The man passes me a T-shirt, and I slip it over my head.
The VIP section is elevated slightly, giving Aleksander and Dashamir a clear view of the fights and reminding everyone below who’s in charge.
Aleksander doesn’t stand as we approach.
He lounges in his chair like a bored emperor, a woman in a tight dress with glossy lips perched on the armrest beside him.
He doesn’t even look at us until we’re standing directly in front of him.
Then his eyes flick up, cold and assessing.
“A Vici.” He says it like he’s naming a particularly unimpressive species of vermin. “Here to beg for a place at the table now that your don’s family has been slaughtered? They were weak.”
Rage coils in my gut, hot and vicious. My family helped build this city. We bled for it. Died for it. And now these men sit in judgment of us, laughing over our corpses like they’ve already won, reaping what we sowed.
But they haven’t won yet.
Aleksander takes a slow sip of vodka, making us wait. “What’s your name?”
“Vito Serra.”
“You can fight, Serra. Better than I expected from Vici trash.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “But fighting’s easy. Loyalty? That’s harder. Especially for a man with a raven on his chest.”
Dashamir sits beside him, perfectly still, his sharp eyes tracking our every movement. Assessing. Calculating. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t speak. Just watches with the cold patience of a man who sees through every lie.
My stomach swoops as I realize he doesn’t believe a word of our story.
But he’s not calling us out. Not yet.
Aleksander waves a hand dismissively. “Sit. Drink. You’ve entertained me tonight, so I’ll let you stay.”
His condescension makes me want to put my fist through his teeth. These Dervishi scum waltzed into my city, stole my weapons, and now this arrogant bastard is granting me permission to sit in a warehouse that should be burned to the ground with all of them inside.
I accept his invitation with a smile, keeping my arm draped around Adora.
Aleksander turns his head slightly. “But understand this. You’re on probation. One wrong move, and I’ll put a bullet in your skull myself.”
His tone suggests he’d enjoy it.
A bottle of expensive vodka appears. Glasses are poured. The kryetar—Aleksander’s underbosses—congratulate me with bruising handshakes that are meant to put me in my place. These are the men killing my soldiers, taking my territory, bleeding me dry. I shake their hands and memorize their faces.
Adora plays her part perfectly, leaning into me, laughing at their jokes, letting them think she’s just a pretty bitch at a fight. But her eyes are sharp, taking in everything.
The music starts again, pounding bass that makes everything more chaotic as people lean close to talk to each other.
I spot a phone sitting next to an ashtray, forgotten by one of the kryetar who’s now shouting at someone across the table. I catch Adora’s eye and let my gaze drift deliberately to the phone, then back to her.
She doesn’t miss a beat. A moment later she’s leaning forward to accept a drink, her handbag sweeping across the table. When she sits back, the phone is gone.
I hide my smile behind my drink.
While the kryetar on my right is distracted by the arrival of several more women, I lift his phone. Then another from the one across from me, who’s so drunk he’s nearly falling out of his chair.
Three phones. Three sources of intel on where these bastards are keeping the weapons they stole from my family. Guns and munitions I promised to Rafiel Lucania that could arm fifty men. The Dervishis stole them like the Vicis were already dead and buried. I’m going to make them regret that.
I would kill for Aleksander or Dashamir’s phones, but as I glance toward the brothers, I notice Dashamir’s colorless eyes intent on me.
Time to go.
I lean close to Adora’s ear. “We need to leave. Now.”
She nods imperceptibly.
I stand, pulling her up with me, and address Aleksander. “This has been an honor, but my head feels like it’s going to explode. Your man has a brutal right hook.” I grip my jaw and flex it.
“Already?” Aleksander barely glances up. “Fine. You’re dismissed.”
Dashamir speaks for the first time, his voice quiet and cold. “I will see you again soon.”
It’s not an invitation. It’s a threat. He knows we’ve been lying to him about why we came here tonight.
“Looking forward to it,” I lie, wondering if he’s realized I’m not just any Vici. I’m the Vici, but I feel certain he wouldn’t let me walk out of here alive if that were the case.
And if he knew that the woman on my arm was Adora Montoni, Don Agnello’s sheltered daughter? They’d chain her in a basement and ransom her back piece by piece. A Montoni princess is worth her weight in gold. There’s not a chance in hell he’d let us walk out.
We make it to the car without incident, though I feel eyes on us the whole way. The stolen phones press against my hips like hot coals. My face throbs where the mountain’s fists connected. Blood has dried in my hairline, cracking when I move.
The moment the car doors close and I turn the engine over, I get us the fuck out of there, slamming down my foot and just resisting the urge to burn rubber. I turn whichever way will put the most distance between us and the warehouse.
We did it.
We actually did it.
Beside me, Adora starts laughing. It’s not quite hysteria, but it’s close. High and breathless and tinged with adrenaline. “That was insane. I can’t believe we got out of there alive. No one could have saved us if they realized who we were.”
I force myself to drive normally as we reach a main road, compulsively checking the rearview mirror for a tail. “Doe, you were incredible. You saved my life.”
“What the hell were you doing stepping into that ring? I thought you were going to die. It felt like you were kissing me goodbye.”
A kiss for luck from the woman I adore. Turns out I fucking needed it.
“It was the only way I could think of getting close to the krye and his men. Here. Quickly.” Digging the stolen phones out of my pocket, I hand them to her.
“In the glovebox you’ll find a USB-C device.
Plug it into each phone until you see the screens flash.
The last thing we need is Dervishis tracking us down.
They’ll realize any second now what we’ve stolen from them. ”
Adora works quickly on the phones, using the device to simultaneously disable the tracking and GPS and unlock the phones.