26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ethan
I watched red and orange mix together as smoke rose to the sky. I sat in my car, watching the firefighters try to salvage the remnants of a ruined empire. My eyes burned with intensity, and the world turned black—momentarily—as I sank into my fury until it became one with me.
Anthony did not just take the buildings he burned. He stole my legacy.
Mine.
And I intend to take it back.
“Cousin!” He puts on his treacherous grin as I walk into his apartment, arms wide. I see the men standing around—one by the door, the other by the hallway. There’s more lurking, waiting for the command because I know Anthony knows why I’m here. “It’s been a minute. I didn’t think you’d allow me to play host again.”
My thumb brushes against the gun tucked into my waistband, and the cold metal clears my thoughts as I take a step forward.
It’s the emissary of death. I’m just the messenger.
“Anthony,” I say casually as I sit down, crossing one leg over the other. “What have you done?”
He feigns ignorance, scrunching his brows and tilting his head. “Done? What do you mean? Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “If you’re talking about the new deal I made with the Russians, I assure you it was for the best. You’ll thank me after all this is done, and you’re back at the helm.”
My nostrils flare at the word “ thanks.”
Thanks? Gratitude? The bastard.
“Royale. The casino,” I push the facts at him, drawing out my words slowly, letting each syllable sink like a dagger. “You burned them down. Why?”
“You—what are you talking—?”
“Anthony!” I growl, slamming my hand down on the couch. “You fucking traitor. You burned down everything you knew you couldn’t control, didn’t you? Just the same way you plotted with the enemies and broke bread with the prosecution’s office.”
I watch shock spread across the faces of the men standing around us, and I shake my head in disgust. These men—who used to take my every word as law—followed him mindlessly.
They’ll have no use for their eyes when I’m done with Anthony.
“What did you think you would gain from this?” I ask as my voice turns cold with rage. The buried urge rises to the surface, devoid of warmth and deadlier than the gun I concealed. “Control over the Cross empire? Your rightful position? ”
His jaw tightens at the last word, and I throw my back, erupting with mocking laughter. “Your fucking birthright?! Do you think anybody would respect or fear you?”
“They already do!” Anthony hisses as his facade falls apart. He stands up, towering over my seated position with his shoulders arched and his chest heaving with barely restrained fury. His eyes burn with defiance, but beneath that, I see something else—desperation.
“They follow you because they’re afraid,” I continue, my voice dropping to something lethal, something that sends a chill through the room. “Fear is a leash, Anthony, but respect? Respect is a chain. And you? You’ve never had enough spine to earn it.”
His fists clench at his sides, his nostrils flaring as he glares at me. He’s unraveling, losing control, and I let him.
“I gave you everything,” he spits. “I stood by you, bled for you even though it was never yours to have!”
“You bled for yourself,” I correct, rising to my feet slowly. The room shrinks around us, and the men around us are mere shadows in the periphery. “You’ve always been a fucking parasite, feeding off the Cross name while pretending you had the stomach to lead.”
Anthony’s breath shudders, his rage threatening to consume him. But I don’t stop.
“You wanted this, didn’t you? You thought you could take what’s mine?” I lean in just enough for my next words to slip through my teeth, each syllable laced with venom. “Then take it, Anthony. But you better pray to whatever god you believe in that you never—” I grip the collar of his shirt and yank him close “—fucking lose.”
The silence that follows is suffocating. The men who once followed him blindly now stand frozen, waiting. Watching.
I was going to take him out there to wrap my fingers around his throat until I could no longer hear his traitorous voice. Until the light of a blood betrayal went out.
But Alucard was right.
Someone else will take him out. With a gun to his head. Dumped like trash in an alleyway. I only have to make the path clear.
Anthony exhales sharply through his nose, his eyes darting between mine. He knows. He’s already lost. And now, I’m going to make sure he never forgets it.
My mouth curls with a promise of what’s to come. “I’ll be seeing you, cousin,” I say.
As I make a turn, I see it. The glint of a gun, his hand reaching for it. Anthony’s quick draw is slow motion for me, and I reach out before he pulls it clean, knocking the force from his elbow.
He yelps loudly, but my other hand is reaching his neck, pushing him to the wall, and pinning him there. Behind me, I hear the sound of safety coming off. The guns are pointed at me, but I dare them to shoot.
“You betrayed your blood.” I dig my glare into his eyes, seeking out his cowardice. He claws at my hand, a desperate and useless attempt to free himself. “You sold your family out because you wanted to claim something that you could never control. You’re a disgrace, Anthony,” I spit as I watch the color drain from his face and the fight in him leave.
“And you dared to threaten the woman I love. You wanted to hurt her. God,” I exhale, my shoulders shaking with rage. “I would’ve dug your eyes out and secreted your limbs if you’d touched a hair on Natalie’s head.”
I should end him for that alone .
His hands go limp on both sides, leaving nothing but a shriveled, spineless bastard with bulging eyes. When I let go, his body drops to the floor with a thud.
I tower above him, and my mouth flattens in disgust. “You should be happy I’m not putting a bullet through your head right here and now because I’d very much like to be permanently rid of you.”
Anthony tries to stand up, but he crumples to the ground again. “However,” I continue, “I’ll let the same people you connived with take care of what you’ve become. When they find out that I’ve abandoned you, they’ll come for you. I’m sure you’ve pissed off enough people that someone out there has a bullet with your name engraved.”
As for the men… they lower their guns slowly. I don’t bother addressing them— they were never more than meat on bones, carrying out grunt work— as I stride across the living room, heading for the door. My shoulders rise and stiffen as I think about the damage to be undone.
Getting Anthony out of the way is just the tip of the iceberg.
Who knows what he’s done? The secrets he’s spilled in the name of unholy alliance? If he’s told them enough to bring the Cross empire down, it’s my burden to build another fortress.
As soon as possible.
But not without a parting message.
I pause.
“And Anthony—” my words are measured and deliberate as I speak, “if you’re thinking of gaining sympathy from people who once tried to bring this family down, offering them a cut or share in what you’ll get once I’m rid of, then let me tell you—” I turn slowly, intending to finish my statement with direct eye contact, when I see it .
He lunges—grabbing the gun of the man standing beside him and pointing it at me. I draw mine a second quicker, and bullets whizz through the air, meeting flesh and passing through bone.
***
“The morgue,” I say coarsely when Leonard steps out of the apartment an hour later, his face riddled with questions. “Find a plot away from everything. He does not deserve a proper burial. Also, keep a handle on the gossip. I don’t want the press to know who died here. Or that anybody died at all.”
If my cousin had died defending his family, I would’ve buried him on the private plot where his father and mine lie.
He died a traitor to the Cross. The worst kind of scumbag a person can be. The moment he reached for the gun—concluding that I was to die—he stopped being family.
When I saw the light leave his eyes… before he dropped to the ground a final time, I had no remorse. He forced my hand, and I played my part.
“Yes, sir.” Leonard nods vigorously, his voice sharp and ripe with obedience. I know he’s worried that he’ll meet the same fate as Anthony did, but I don’t intend to kill him.
Mercy? No.
But he’ll earn his life. One way or another.
I push away from the railings that lead down the stairs, my car keys dangling from my fingers. There’s a bloodstain on my shirt—the spot where his bullet nicked me. They tell the story of what happened inside the apartment.
I intend to burn the shirt until only ashes remain .
Leonard will do a good job of keeping leaked information vague. The men in the apartment will conform out of fear to save their lives.
And in the cover of the unknown, I will take down everybody who joined hands with Anthony. By the time morning comes, Philadelphia will be washed clean.
Yet, even as I slide behind the wheel, the image creeps in—of a brown-haired woman with a smile as warm as a burning fireplace and a chin set with unwavering stubbornness.
Her scent, soft and sweet, wraps around me, and I close my eyes, powerless to resist. Powerless to stop myself from breathing her in. From remembering the way, her lips felt against mine—soft yet opinionated, demanding yet yielding.
It’s been too long.
Far too long.
I’ve missed her. Thought about her. Dreamt about her. I’ve lingered outside her apartment for hours, my mind consumed by the man I saw the other day—the one whose gaze clung to her like he had a right to.
I’ve held myself back from knocking on her door, from throwing away my pride and begging Natalie to take me back.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep myself in check. What I know as logic is slipping through my fingers, and the temptation to surrender—to be consumed by her—is a breath away from devouring me whole.
I’ve always prided myself on my will, sharpening it into something unbreakable. It’s how I’ve survived, built, and protected the Cross legacy.
Natalie is my weakness and her mere presence brings my mortality and emotions to the surface.
But I’m not certain if I care about being strong anymore.