Chapter 22
LOUIS
Evil is radical but only because it is chosen. — Immanuel Kant
Iwas hesitating. It was the perfect opportunity, and I was hesitating, thinking if I just did it the next day it would be fine. The box burned a hole in my brain, knowing it was in the car, knowing I could end things now.
Damn it!
I followed Tempest into the main living room and was suddenly glad my gut instinct was correct.
So many bosses, from the Russians to the Italians, stood around talking, celebrating Tempest’s mom.
I wouldn’t escape alive even if I bombed half the building.
Those guys didn’t die easy, and they were bored during peace, meaning they were just itching for a fight.
Even Ace was still there—granted, they kept him close because they couldn’t trust him, but between him and the De Lange boss, it seemed like they just let everyone in, doors wide open, no questions asked, if you were partially related through marriage or blood it was your free pass.
Me included.
I eyed Dante like a hawk and grabbed a glass of wine from a tray when it was swiftly taken from my hands.
Phoenix, formally De Lange, who had given the Alfero title to Dante—basically a dad to the guy—stole the glass from me. “I’m going to borrow your husband.”
Tempest’s jaw dropped.
Phoenix didn’t speak unless he really wanted to. He was completely terrifying and knew more secrets than any of the world powers combined—or at least it felt that way. Sometimes I imagined we existed in this measly world simply because it amused him to allow it.
He’d been retired for a few years.
We all used that term lightly.
Nobody ever retires from the Mafia, but he’d at least earned some time off, which meant he was back in the city.
For how long?
Why?
“Quiet.” Phoenix smiled. ”I can hear your brain working. I’m not going to kill you.” He tilted his head. “Follow me.”
I squeezed Tempest’s hand then followed him down the hall to an oak door.
He opened it and flicked on some lights that led down a dark staircase.
I followed him down until we were in a large space with several screens, presumably security for the house, and a small bar on the side. “He hides the good stuff down here.”
I didn’t ask if the good stuff had poison. I just assumed if he wanted me dead he wouldn’t give me a drink of expensive whiskey to do it.
I’d never had a solid conversation with Phoenix.
He was above my pay grade.
I’d always been thankful for that.
And now that I had his attention, I kind of felt like throwing up. What was it about the man that made me prefer murdering in cold blood to making eye contact with his cold blue eyes?
A glass was shoved into my hands. I lifted it to my mouth. Smooth. Whiskey. Neat. I nodded. “It’s good.”
“It seems you’ve been given a task, Louis.”
So, he knew. I leaned against the table. “Are you here to stop me?”
“I’m not in the business of stopping anyone, I am however in the business of guilt and regrets.” He walked over to the table by the security screens and grabbed a black folder. “Everything I have on Cassian, let him know that in order to do what he needs to do he should grow a pair and ask.”
I almost laughed. “You offering to be his mentor?”
Phoenix tilted his head. “I do miss having protégés, you’ll pass along the offer then?”
Yeah, and I’m sure that won’t send Cassian screaming into the void. “I will.”
“An exchange. Information for a life is hardly an even trade,” he said slowly. “So, I give you this, and I ask you make it fair, kind, respectful.”
I was going to be sick. “What are you asking?”
“My death,” came a familiar voice.
I nearly choked on my next sip.
He emerged from the shadows. “Don’t come behind me like a damn assassin, face me like a man, let me leave this world on my own terms. That’s all I ask.”
Phoenix looked between us. “I’ll leave you two to discuss. And Louis, I do hope you know that no matter how deep the cut of loss, no matter how innocent your brother was—taking this life won’t bring him back, and poking the bear just wakes it up.”
“I know what I’m doing,” I said, keeping my voice even.
“You don’t,” Phoenix said dryly. “But by God, you will when this is over if you do this poorly.” He lifted his glass. “Play nice.”
When his footsteps stopped, I finally turned to Dante. “How’d you know?”
“You ran.” Dante crossed his arms. “He yelled at me for shooting him and said you’d come back for him.
We tried—” His voice cracked. “He was gone, it was too late. My aim had been wrong, I’d been trying to hit the man we thought was your father.
He lied about his whereabouts so I took your brother out instead.
We could sit here and toss blame all day.
The truth is, I made a mistake. A life for a life is how we do business, and the minute I recognized you and you so cheerfully said yes to my terrorist of a daughter, I knew my time was limited. ”
“She’s not a terrorist.” I snapped.
His eyebrows rose. “So, you do have feelings for her? I guess I can die in peace now that I know you don’t just want another pretty thing to put on your shelf.”
I snorted out a laugh.
“Pretty things like her are the most dangerous. You want to touch them, then they show you the dozen knives they have hidden on their person. She’s the type to laugh while cutting you to ribbons. It’s terrifying.”
“I taught her well.”
“Too well.”
Dante studied me. “And how does this end? You and her. Does she know?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “She knows it’s someone she loves.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “I’m just going to say it.”
I frowned. “Say what?”
He shook his head slowly. “I wouldn’t have picked you. Out of all the men in the world, I wouldn’t have picked you for her.” He paused, then added quietly, “and yet—I can’t imagine her with anyone else.”
I said nothing.
“She walks all over the men who are weak. Manipulates the ones who let her. And the fear has always been that she’d fall so hard she’d do something stupid.” His mouth twitched. “I don’t think you’re attractive enough for her to be that blindly stupid.”
Insulting. Wow.
“I’m stunning,” I said dryly. “But thank you? I think?”
He made a face. “Women used to faint in my presence, so forgive me if I’m not impressed. Have you ever given a seventy-year-old woman a heart attack—only for her to say ‘thank you’ before she died?”
I burst out laughing. “Wait. You’re serious?”
His smile was real. Raw. “Wasn’t on purpose. Weak heart. I like to think she died happy.”
“No shit.”
He inhaled slowly. “For what it’s worth—I’m sorry.” His voice lowered. “When this is over, try to make her see reason. As much as you can.”
Then, softer: “And Louis?”
I couldn’t believe how casually we were talking about his death.
“Have them bury me next to Frank. Fuck Nixon—that spot’s mine.”
I huffed. “Weird that you both have a claim on the same grave.”
He shrugged. “Either way, I’ve got time. They put a price tag and a clock on my head.” His eyes flicked toward the monitors. Toward the party. Toward his life.
“Let me kiss my wife. Let me hug my kids. Let me look at all of it and know I did good. I made mistakes—but I did good.” His gaze locked on mine. “Watch how I raised them. How I loved my friends. I was a father first. A boss second.”
Tears burned the backs of my eyes. “Sir… I wouldn’t know what a father looks like.”
Dante smiled. “Funny. I said the same thing once.” He stepped closer. “Then Phoenix told me to look in the mirror the day I became one. Makes you grow up faster than a gun. Faster than being made.” His voice dropped. “Being a father is scarier than being a boss. There’s more to lose.”
Before I could speak, he pulled me into a hug so tight I couldn’t breathe.
“Treat her right,” he murmured, “or I will claw my way out of hell and kill you myself. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Fuck.
“No second guessing,” he added, pulling back. “It’s either you or one of theirs. I’d rather it be a son than a stranger.”
A tear slid down my cheek. “I’m not your son. I’m your killer.”
He smacked my cheek lightly. “Course you’re my son. The minute you said ‘I do’—regardless of your reasons—you became mine too.”