Chapter 1 #2
Todorov is not an Italian name, it’s Bulgarian.
And if I’m not mistaken, I know exactly what family these two come from.
Rayna was married into the Casa Nostra, shackled to a fucking prick, as well.
A tale as old as time, unfortunately. The daughter of a traitor sold off to keep the peace.
How she managed to keep her brother from being killed for her father’s crimes, I’m not sure.
I certainly want to know, though.
Amused by Yordan’s confidence, my lips twitch up. “Sixteen is a man in our world,” I agree. “Would you like to learn what men do to those who hurt their families?”
“W-what?” Rayna stutters from behind her brother but I don’t spare her a glance. I’m far too busy assessing Yordan, watching as he reacts to the task at hand. My offer isn’t simply one to teach, it’s also a test.
I want to know how he will respond to doing what needs to be done.
Will he hesitate? Will he jump at the chance to avenge his sister?
He was man enough to guard her from a grown man’s rage, but can he finish the job?
Does he possess the ability to take a life?
When excitement flickers in his gaze at the proposition, I think I have my answer.
“I know what they do,” Yordan says, voice firm and sure.
“Good.” I grin, rolling my shoulders back. Turning to Cassio, I gesture toward the half-unconscious dickhead on the ground. “Ocean?”
“Ocean,” my brother agrees.
Killing on Empire grounds is expressly forbidden.
During an active semester, that rule extends to the water surrounding the island, within reason.
But school is not in session, and Cassio and I know what we’re doing.
Pulling off my black satin tie, I toss it into the sand and lean down to grab Federico by one arm while my brother seizes the other.
“Follow us,” I tell Yordan. The teen listens immediately, ignoring his sister’s worried protests.
I don’t understand her objections. Her brother was born into this world, the same as she was.
He was always going to get his hands bloodied.
Especially being the son of Damyan Todorov.
I’m sure that’s who these two must come from, though I don’t think Cassio has put two and two together yet.
Damyan was executed seven years ago for stealing from the small Bulgarian mafia he’d been brought up in.
The syndicate operated in New York City, in mutual territory with another few smaller criminal organizations. How the pair of them ended up being in Abramo Giuliani’s custody of all people…I’m not quite sure.
I make it my business to know as much about the various things happening around The Outfit. But unless it directly affects my family, sometimes looking into something is more trouble than it’s worth.
Once we’ve met the freezing ocean water at waist-deep, we’re officially far enough from the Island to be excluded from the no murder rule.
Pulling a handgun from the small of my back, I plant it firmly into Yordan’s open palm. “Your sister, your kill.”
There isn’t even a trace of fear in his eye as he accepts it.
“What the fuck?” Federico slurs. “You can’t just tell him to kill me! Do you even know who I am?”
I know exactly who you are.
“A wife beater?” I drawl.
Cassio smirks, adding, “A spineless cunt?”
“She deserves everything she gets,” he snaps. “She doesn’t fucking listen. She’s supposed to serve me!”
Cocking the Glock, Yordan pins the barrel to Federico’s skull. “I told you I would kill you for hitting her. Rayna didn’t want to risk being stuck with someone worse than you, she begged me not to. But I won’t let her be saddled with another son of a bitch like you ever again.”
Like every coward, his rage is quickly overcome by fear.
“I’m your brother,” he tries to reason.
Yordan isn’t swayed. His eyes go dark as he asks, “Says who?”
Bang.
The shot that rings out is fast and final. A smirk spreads across my lips, something akin to pride rushing through me. Yordan killed without remorse, using lethal force to protect his sister just as I would—just as any Moretti would, really.
Cassio and I release the dead weight, blood beginning to seep into the dark water as the corpse floats away slowly. Yordan blinks, reaching out in an attempt to return my weapon. Only, it doesn’t feel like mine any longer.
“You keep it,” I say, nodding back to shore and beginning to guide him out of the ocean. “Let it serve as a reminder of what made men do to those who hurt their family.”
“Might need it,” he muses, smiling with a wince. “Just killed one of Abramo Giuliani’s men with the help of two Morettis. He’ll try to have my head before I can even start to defend myself.”
Not going to happen.
A familiar sort of protectiveness rises in my chest. “You let me handle Abramo,” I tell him darkly. “You won’t be going back there.”
Wading through the last of the heavy water, his steps falter.
“We won’t?”
“No, you’re coming home with us.”
I say the proclamation before I’ve even thought it over. And still, I don’t regret it. I’m not sending these two anywhere but on a plane back to Outfit territory. I’ve helped plenty of women in need before, this shouldn’t be any different.
“We are?” Yordan gapes, feet finally hitting the dry, black beach sand.
I open my mouth to reply, only to be silenced by shock.
“How dare you?” Rayna demands storming up to us with wild green eyes and a sneer on her pink lips. “He’s just a boy, he has no business killing people! You’ve just given him a death sentence.”
Did she just shout at me?
Disbelief and amusement hit me all at once.
Has a woman ever yelled at me before?
I don’t know that anyone has ever dared to raise their voice toward me, especially after knowing who I am and what I’m capable of.
Huh.
I don’t know whether I should be upset or not. Instead, I find that I’m utterly baffled, and I have no idea how to address it.
“Tell your sister to pack her things,” I instruct Yordan, looking at the pair of siblings. “We’re staying in the west building tonight, I’ll make sure you have a room there. We leave on the jet tomorrow morning, nine sharp.”
“What are you talking about?” Rayna’s head rears back in shock and outrage. “We aren’t going anywhere with you. We don’t even know you.”
There she goes again with that tone. Was this woman born with this level of audacity or has she simply adopted it over time? “I wasn’t asking for your input. If you want to be free of Abramo’s wrath, you’ll come with us.”
She folds her arms, looking like steam might start to burst from her ears. “So, what? You can give me a price for that freedom that I could never dream of repaying? Fat chance! I am not trading one jailer for another.”
“I’m sure you’ll find I don’t have much taste for holding hostages.” Certainly not insolent ones with attitudes, either.
“There will be no payment,” Cassio informs her, his voice going soft in an attempt to reassure the raging woman. “Morettis take care of women, no questions asked, no compensation required. You want to protect your brother, don’t you? You’ll be safe with our family.”
Rayna shrinks in on herself, likely recognizing that we’re not the enemies she seems to think we are.
I find that I don’t like the look of embarrassment that seems to cross her face.
She was all outrage and brusque seconds ago, and it wasn’t exactly unfounded.
Two men she doesn’t know just helped her little brother commit a first degree felony in front of her eyes.
All that fire fades at the prospect of safety?
Perhaps Federico shouldn’t have been given such a swift death.
“Nine,” I echo the time, pulling off my soaked suit jacket.
Rayna glares up at me, and I resist a smile.
So, there’s still some spite left in her.
“We’ll be ready,” Yordan assures us, grabbing his sister’s hand. “Thank you.”
Cassio nods, turning to leave. “Anyone bothers you, you come to us.”
Yordan agrees, and I eye the two of them one last time.
“Don’t return to working. You are no longer a part of the Casa Nostra. Join the wedding party or make your way to the west building. My people will get you settled.”
Catching the shadow of a man in the treeline behind them, I don’t allow Rayna to protest before I dismiss myself, walking away without another word.
I hear the siblings softly arguing at each other and chuckle to myself before schooling my expression.
I know exactly who’s waiting for me, and I tend not to let him see me smile. Not anymore.
“Will,” I greet dully, stopping a few feet from him.
William Sallow, The Lord of Empire Academy. To say our relationship is tumultuous would be an understatement. We’ve been rivals, friends, and everything in between since our youth.
Most recently, we’ve been at odds. After his little show of parading around an executioner, making my sister think her boyfriend was going to be killed, I haven’t allowed him the honor of my forgiveness.
Though technically, the Morettis have forgiven him.
It’s the reason Jade’s wedding has been able to take place here, after all.
“If you’re going to give me a hard time about spilling blood in the water, spare me the dramatics, we both know I didn’t break the law.”
Will’s jaw ticks. “I was going to tell you that you could have ended him in the sand, actually.”
I snort dismissively. “So you could end me in retaliation for breaking one of your precious rules?”
Something like hurt dances behind his dark eyes. “I think we both know that I wouldn’t be able to do that.”
I resist furrowing my brows.
Honesty, that’s not something Will does often.
“Enjoy the rest of your night, Apollo.”
My name sounds haunted on his tongue, and I’m not sure what to make of it. Will disappears into the forest without another word, leaving me to stand by and contemplate our interaction.
I sigh, scrubbing a hand down my face. What a fucking night.