Chapter 1 – VALENTINA
One
VALENTINA
PRESENT DAY
Idrag in a breath and release it slowly, squeezing the trigger. The bullet slices through the target with dead-on precision.
Kill shot.
Round after round erupts from the chamber until the slide locks back with a metallic snap, cutting off my high faster than I expected.
But one beady fucking eye is still staring at me. I growl, eject the empty mag, and rip off my ear pro.
“Son of a bitch.”
Remi’s hand finds my arm just as I rack the Glock.
“I think he’s dead,” she says with a low chuckle.
“And look, I’m all for fucking his shit up, but there are still customers here.
Maybe a man’s face on your target isn’t the most professional choice.
” She pauses, grimacing like the irony just hit her.
“Fuck. When the hell did I become the voice of reason?”
I shoulder check her and laugh as I set the weapon down.
Remi’s right. As much as I want to blow off steam with some shitty ex-boyfriend target practice, people are starting to take notice.
Not that either of us gives a damn what they think, but if, by some twist of fate, that asshole turns up dead, obliterating his face at my range will probably land me at the top of the suspect list.
And I’ll be damned if I let him stress me out more than he already has.
Three years worth of bullshit. Not only did he cheat—I caught that asshole in a threesome with our track rivals. Like he was trying to hurt me in the worst way.
And he did. It was fucking humiliating.
Without thinking, I grab the pistol and send round after round into what’s left of his picture until it’s confetti on the floor.
“There. Now there’s no evidence.”
Remi laughs. “Fair.”
“I don’t have feelings for him anymore,” I blurt. “If that’s what you’re thinking. Aside from wanting to hang him by his toes off the Ben Franklin Bridge. Now, those feelings are very much alive.”
She throws an arm around my shoulder and gives me a grin. “I know. I wouldn’t judge you even if you did. That shit doesn’t just disappear because we tell it to. Would I want to slap you? Maybe. But judge? Never.”
“Good to know,” I say with a hollow laugh, leaning my head against hers and already feeling less homicidal.
Remi isn’t just my cousin—she’s the sister I got to choose. Before the twins were born, and when I thought I’d be an only child, it didn’t bother me because I had her.
But a bond like ours doesn’t just come from growing up together. Our family is unique in every sense of the word. Unconventional, bound by secrets and a knowledge of the world’s darkness that would leave most people unsettled.
“I didn’t see his name on tonight’s roster. Maybe a little cash and some adrenaline are exactly what you need to purge every last bit of him from your system.” Remi slides on her ear pro and lifts her weapon. “And if he shows up…well, a snip here and there to his brake line—”
“I thought murder was off the table.”
“Never,” she says with a wink, then lights up the target.
I step back and watch her rip through the blue paper, each round punching tight holes dead center.
Remi is a damn good shot—not that she’d accept anything less.
She’s a perfectionist through and through, excelling at everything she touches.
But her obsession comes at a cost. If she thinks she can’t be perfect, she won’t even try.
And that is a tragedy because Remi is a fucking genius.
She’s destined to do big things in this world someday. I can feel it.
“Is my daughter trying to put a hole through the wall?”
Aunt Amalia’s unexpected voice startles me. I twist around and pull one of my favorite people into a hug. She doesn’t often come around the range, the last time being when my dad and Uncle Kai signed it over to Remi and me, so I’m immediately curious as to what brings her by.
“Just some therapy.”
Her eyes light with understanding, sympathy, and a glint of something darker. “I heard. Say the word, and I’ll pay that asshole a little visit.”
It might have been over a decade since her last contract, but one motto threads thick through this family: stay ready.
“Tempting, but we’ll put a pin in the idea, just in case.”
“As you wish.”
Even though I shredded Cole’s face with two magazines, I don’t exactly want him dead.
Yet. Maybe a little ass-kicking, sure, but the fucker gets to live to fuck another day. As long as I don’t have to see him.
Convincing my dad to back off…well, that’s another story.
Remi sets the gun down and nearly stumbles at the sight of her mother. “Mamá, I can explain.”
Aunt Amalia arches a brow, folding her arms across her chest. “Dale. Tell me your version.”
I narrow my eyes, confused. Remi usually shares everything with me, but for once, I’m the last to know about something clearly significant.
With a huff, she pushes out of the main room into the lobby, and we follow.
“He tried to write me a ticket because I forgot my decal. But I’ve been parking in the same spot all year. That bastard just hates me.”
“Remi Isabel Cain, you throat-punched your school resource officer over a $5 infraction.”
My cousin purses her lips, trying not to grin. “He was being a dick, insulted my car, and threatened to have me towed. What else was I supposed to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know…maybe not get charged with a felony and expelled three weeks before graduation? And then having your father cover for you, paying off cops to pretend none of it happened—except your expulsion, of course.”
Poor Uncle Kai got his ass kicked, I’m sure of it.
“Papá is a traitor.”
“He’s loyal to me above everyone else, including you. But now I have to suffer too—after being away for three days.”
Remi grimaces. “Gross.”
I step between them when Aunt Amalia pinches the bridge of her nose and drags in a long, steadying breath.
“I’m sure they’ll let her finish the year online or something,” I say, trying to offer a bit of optimism.
“That’s not the point.” She steps around me, the tension in her shoulders easing as she takes Remi’s hands in her own. Her voice is tender but firm. “Listen, mi amor, we’ll talk about it later. I just got back, I missed you, and the last thing I want is to argue.”
Remi’s chin lifts like she’s ready to fire back, but then her eyes flicker, guilt bleeding through. She squeezes her mother’s hands instead of pulling away.
“Fine,” she mutters, barely above a whisper. “Maybe I shouldn’t have hit him…but he did deserve it.”
Aunt Amalia’s lips twitch, not quite a smile, but not quite disapproval either. Her gaze hardens, carrying the same cold glint I’ve only ever seen when she talks about her past as a mercenary.
“Deserving it doesn’t always mean you get to act on impulse, Remi. That’s the difference between surviving…and getting caught.”
With a shrug, Remi grabs her mom’s face and plants a quick kiss on her forehead.
“I’ll remember that next time,” she says, then snatches my wrist and drags me toward the exit. “Mamá, close up Sloane’s for us. Val just murdered a picture of Cole, and she needs some air.”
“Really?” I laugh, letting her tow me along.
“Oh, and please do fuck your husband already. He’s been a miserable mess without you.”
Aunt Amalia’s eyebrows shoot up. “Remi!”
We grab our gear and spill into the parking lot, barely able to stand upright.
“That was foul,” I manage through the laughter, tugging my helmet on. “And thanks for the unwanted visual.”
This is us. How we’ve always been. Getting into and out of trouble together, laughing until our stomachs ache, until we’re on the verge of peeing our pants.
No matter the years that pass, some days we’re still those same carefree girls…
before cheating boyfriends and burdens and the heaviness of the world caught up to us.
She slides her helmet on, and we sync our speakers.
“At least yours is just a visual. I’ve had courtside seats my whole life. Don’t get me wrong—I love that they’re still so obsessed with each other. It’s cute as fuck. But no one wants to see their parents playing grab-ass at every turn.”
Our bikes roar to life, vibrating under us as we pull onto the busy street.
“You forget who my parents are?”
“Fuck, that’s right. Uncle Derek is such a simp.”
We burst out laughing again, weaving through traffic until we hit the open stretch, speed washing the city off our backs. Then the chatter fades. When our helmets go quiet, I can’t tell if Remi’s lost in thought or just reveling in the wind and the rush of the street beneath us.
My own thoughts betray me, drifting to Cole.
I know I never loved him—not the way my dad loves my mom, not the way every couple in our family would bleed, kill, or die for each other.
I fooled myself into thinking those kinds of feelings could grow with time.
His betrayal stings, but not because I lost him.
It’s because he reminded me of what I never had.
“Do you think…” My voice cracks slightly, even through the comm. “Do you think that’ll ever be us? Falling so madly, so deeply in love?”
She’s quiet for a moment, her exhale brushing static into my ear before she chuckles softly.
“You? I’m sure of it. Me, on the other hand—doubtful.”
“Remi, shut up. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.”
Her laugh fizzes through the speaker, but it’s thinner now, shaky.
My girl is insanely gorgeous and brilliant, but she doesn’t always see it.
She hides behind her sharp tongue and that fire, but I know how much she doubts herself, how often she mistakes her restless mind, her ADHD, as some kind of flaw. As if it makes her less lovable.
“Yeah, maybe we’ll have double weddings someday,” she jokes, accelerating and slipping a few cars ahead.
Classic Remi, dodging the subject with speed.
I hang back, giving her space, my thoughts circling back to fucking Cole.
The aggravation flares all over again, but it’s a good reminder that love is the last thing on my mind anyway.
Today, all men suck.
“Rem, last one to the Pit buys dinner,” I say, rolling up beside her.
“I’m an expensive date, and I’m starving, so get that wallet ready.”
I reach out and tap the back of her helmet. “You gotta be faster, and that’s tough to do when you’re second best.”
“You bitch,” she laughs, glancing at me briefly. I can’t see through her tinted visor, but I know there’s a cunning grin hiding underneath. Right on cue, she takes off, weaving between cars and tearing through the intersection.
“Cheating because you know I’ll win, huh?” I shout after her, gunning the throttle. Laughter rises in my throat…right up until a horn blares. My head snaps left in time to see a black sedan’s grill barreling toward me.
No time to swerve. No time to stop.
The world detonates on impact. Pain tears through me, sharp and white hot. Then the world goes dark.