Chapter 9
Mina
Eighteen Years Old
“How do you feel?” Remus asks, his strong hands kneading my shoulders like a boxer’s coach before the final round.
“I feel good.”
“Just good?”
“No. I feel powerful,” I reply, voice edged with the determined confidence I know he’ll appreciate.
It’s not a lie.
I do feel powerful—like I’m stepping into the person I was always meant to become.
I glance at the standing mirrors in my room and take a slow, deliberate breath. The reflection staring back is almost unrecognizable to me. The skintight black suit clings to my body like a second skin, and aside from displaying all my curves, it also shows all the weapons I have. This must be what they mean by being armed to the teeth.
“I look quite scary, don’t I?” I laugh halfheartedly while staring at my reflection.
“Damn right, you do.” Rolo smirks, sliding yet another blade into the hidden sheath on my outer thigh. “You look fierce, cousin.”
I flex my fingers, arms, and legs, testing the weight of the weapons on my body, hoping they won’t mess with my ability to move or stay nimble.
“Do you really think I’ll need all of these?” I keep to my cool tone, not wanting either of my cousins to see that my nerves are starting to bubble and hum beneath the surface.
“Better safe than sorry,” Remus retorts, exchanging a silent look with Rolo that beckons him to add another knife to the artillery.
My stomach coils, but I school my features to keep my expression as blank as possible.
I can’t afford room for doubt or insecurity to enter my mind right now.
Not tonight.
Tonight, I can’t just look it—I have to be fearless.
Still my mind can’t help but wander to my father and how he’s dealing with tonight’s big event.
“Rolo, you’ve been downstairs, right? How’s my father taking all of this?”
“So far, so good. But he’s on his fifth gin, so…” He shrugs, leaving the rest unsaid.
My father isn’t one to drink heavily in front of his men.
I can only assume that he’s drinking to maintain an aloof composure amongst his guests.
“Not to make you nervous or anything, but the house is packed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many made men under one roof. Even the retired dinosaurs have come out of their caves to watch the show tonight,” Rolo adds, unamused.
That’s because they want to see me fail.
My lips part open to say just that, but then I decide it’s best to keep my mouth shut.
Both Remus and Rolo are more than aware of what’s at stake tonight. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have spent countless hours getting me ready. They know as well as I do that most of tonight’s guests are bursting at the seams to see me bleed.
But like hell, I’ll give them the satisfaction.
Amid the numerous faceless enemies flashing before my eyes, one person stands out in my mind—one who I hope wants to see me succeed, even if he might still be a little mad at me.
Instead of brushing my fingers over my lips, I run them over my pendant before hiding it away under my suit.
I want to ask my cousins about Jude.
If either of them have seen him tonight.
If he knows what’s coming.
But I don’t.
Saying his name out loud would only confirm what they already suspect—that my teenage crush has long since turned into something far more dangerous.
Hell, if they knew I kissed him, he’d be a dead man walking.
Argh.
I should have warned him last night and told him tonight’s party wouldn’t be like the others. I shouldn’t have left him thinking that tonight would be just another extravagant birthday party where my father got to display his immense wealth, influence, and power amongst his friends.
If my father hasn’t told him the truth by now, I’m sure he’s already pieced it together. The guest list wasn’t filled with the usual names of London’s elite but comprised of the city’s underbelly.
They were more than happy to accept the invite, attending for one reason only—to witness whether the boss’s daughter is truly worthy of being inducted into The Firm.
Neither Rolo nor Remus had this much of a spectacle when they were inducted last year.
But I’m not them.
The stakes for me are far, far higher.
If everything goes according to plan, by the time the sun rises, I’ll be more than just part of The Firm—I’ll have marked my claim as heir apparent.
Of course, that doesn’t mean they’ll accept me.
Even if I do everything right, there will be plenty in attendance waiting—hoping—for me to fail.
“Are you sure that you’re good?” Remus repeats, his gaze piercing, searching for any sign of hesitation or any crack he needs to seal before we walk out that door.
I meet his stare and lift my chin. “More than good. I’m ready.”
A slow, knowing smile tugs at his lips.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“Then let’s do this!” Rolo practically howls, clapping his hands like a man who can already taste the blood in the air.
Before I can react, he pulls me into a tight embrace from behind, his voice dropping into a low murmur against my ear.
“If any cunt so much as nicks you, they won’t be alive in the morning.”
A chill runs down my spine because I know he means it.
“Rolo—”
But before I can talk some sense into my vengeful cousin, Remus stands there, waiting for his turn to hug me. He wraps his arms around me, and with a calm yet razor-sharp voice, he says, “Don’t let them catch you. But if they do, make them regret it.”
He then pulls away, and I just stare at them side by side for a minute.
“You know if this all goes well, one day you’ll be taking orders from me,” I caution, trying to gauge their reaction at the possibility of me becoming their boss.
“Don’t we already?” Rolo asks in confusion, only to become winded when Remus shoves his elbow into his gut.
“We wouldn’t want it any other way,” Remus affirms, reminding me why I love them so much. “This is your birthright, cousin. No one could ever take your place.”
“Fuck, no! You got her all teary-eyed and shit!” Rolo grumbles, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Get it together, Mina. Those fuckers out there will be ruthless with you tonight. Remember, just because we’re happy to have you lead us doesn’t mean they are. To some of those assholes, a woman’s place in The Firm is either on her knees or on her back, servicing them.”
Remus nostrils flare while Rolo gives my shoulders another squeeze to drive the point home.
“Make sure to show them that the only bitch here is the one they look at in the mirror every morning.”
I shake my nerves away and repeat Rolo’s mantra inside my head. Once I feel ready to face everyone, I let out a slow and measured exhale and reach for the door handle.
The moment it turns, the world beyond my bedroom—the safe, familiar world—will be gone.
I will no longer be Mina, the boss’s daughter, but the aspiring new addition to The Firm.
I pull the door open and take a steady step outside.
The hallway is dimmer than usual, with the golden light at the end acting like a beacon, pulling me toward it. Remus and Rolo flank me, their presence solid and steady.
From this point out, they won’t utter a word to me, not that I need them to.
I know what’s in their hearts.
That’s enough.
Our footsteps match as I walk down the long corridor toward the grand staircase filled to the brim with made men , soldiers, and the most prestigious associates of the Firm.
The closer I get, the more I feel the air crackle with anticipation. A low murmur of voices echoes from below, deep and weighty with expectation.
It’s just as I figured it would be—every mafioso within London’s proximity has made its way here tonight. Not for celebration, not to sip champagne and toast my eighteenth birthday.
They’re here to see if I have what it takes, to see if I can survive.
After witnessing the twins’ induction last year, Jude told me that the Outfit does their inductions differently than we do. Their ritual goes back to old Sicily, where saints held power over men’s hearts and actions. They pledge their lives to the syndicate by reciting the omertà and then slice their palms to bleed over their patron saint.
The Firm isn’t big on saints or bleeding for that part.
I’ll have to fight off my aggressors until the first rays of dawn emerge, ensuring that not a drop of my blood hits the floor.
It only takes one drop for me to lose any rights I have to my birthright.
And if I end up dying in the process, my father can’t avenge me.
Though Rolo might break protocol and do just that.
I purge that thought out of my mind and keep moving forward, my steps steady and unwavering. I refuse to make eye contact with anyone on the balcony—those who have claimed the perfect vantage point to overlook the grand foyer where my test will unfold.
I halt at the top of the staircase, admiring the great hall below, the marble floor gleaming under the grand chandelier above. The crowd instantly parts, making an oval around the foyer, the weight of their collective gaze straining my already frazzled nerves.
Not that I let them see it.
Instead, I descend the steps, each movement controlled and deliberate, with my head held high for all to see. Remus and Rolo follow closely behind me, silent shadows intent on ensuring I stay on course.
But I know it’s so much more than that.
The twins are sending a message.
If anyone still harbored hopes or had any nefarious schemes in persuading my father to name one of them as his heir, the unwavering way they walk at my back makes it perfectly clear that they will only ever follow the true Crane heir. And those who dare to oppose it will live to regret it.
My pulse drums a steady rhythm in my ears as I reach the bottom step and stride forward to the center of the marble floor.
Above me, the balcony is lined with too many figures to count, but I find my father easily enough, standing at its center like a king surveying his kingdom.
Though he keeps his expression unreadable, the pride in his eyes is unmistakable, even from where I’m standing. To his right stands Felix, his demeanor impassive as usual. However, the man standing to my father’s left has my stomach clenching—Jude. His brow is furrowed, visibly confused. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t. But now, as he stands on that balcony, it’s all becoming evidently clear what he’s about to witness. And as my father lifts his chin, I pray that I’ll live through this and get to kiss him again. Even if only once.
With a single nod, my father gives the signal to commence. Six figures emerge from the crowd and step onto the marble floor, encircling me. Their presence is immediate and suffocating. Two women, clad in skintight black suits identical to mine, display movements sharp and precise. The other four are men—hulking brutes, their faces carved from stone.
I take them all in, while ensuring to keep my pulse steady.
One breath.
Two.
Three.
And before I have time to exhale, the first strike comes.
The closest man springs forth, his blade flashing toward my ribs. The knife barely grazes my suit as I redirect his arm, driving my elbow into his gut. He grunts but doesn’t fall. Another attacker comes from behind, forcing me to duck just as his blade swipes past my shoulder. I catch his wrist midair, twisting it brutally until the knife clatters to the floor.
I don’t have time to celebrate since someone kicks me at my side, sending me stumbling backward. I turn just in time to block a strike from one of the women, her gaze filled with ruthless intent. I meet her attack head-on with a slash of my own, the tip of my knife grazing her forearm. She hisses out in pain, cursing when her blood tinges the floor at her feet.
But I don’t have time to breathe, let alone gloat.
A fist comes at my face, and I jerk my head to the side, the blow missing by inches. I drive my knee up, slamming it into the man’s midsection before spinning, slicing at the one closing in on my right.
A gash opens along his bicep, blood welling instantly.
Two down.
Four to go.
I can feel the exhaustion creeping in, my breath coming faster, my muscles burning with effort. A foot connects with my ribs, and I bite down a cry of pain as I stagger. The only woman who still remains in the battle uses the moment to grab my wrist, twisting it sharply. My knife drops to the floor with a metallic clang.
One mistake.
I don’t have the luxury of making more.
I growl, twisting my entire body into motion, flipping the woman over my shoulder, and sending her crashing onto the marble floor. Before anyone has time to lunge at me, I pull two knives from my suit and drive them forward, stopping just shy of her throat.
I throw her a cocky grin before flinging my daggers into her arms, blood gushing from the inflicted wounds.
Silence falls over the foyer, heavy and absolute.
Three down.
Three to go.
I crack my neck side to side and eye the brutes that stand in front of me, pissed that I’ve gotten this far.
“Well, lads, shall we continue this dance, or have you had enough?” I goad, gaining a few laughs from the crowd.
Of course, they come at me at full strength, and suddenly, my mind cannot keep up with my body’s reactions to each imminent threat. I’m running on instinct alone and make a mental note of getting Remus and Rolo anything they want as a thank-you gift for having trained me so well. I’m unsure if it were mere minutes that have passed or if it has been hours, as time seems to have lost all its meaning.
Yet, I keep at it—with every precise punch and every unforgiving kick.
I’m down to my last dagger when one of the brutes lunges at me, but I sidestep just in time, twisting his arm behind his back before driving my elbow into his ribs. Another comes at me just as fast, causing me to drop down low, sweeping his legs out from under him, his head cracking against the marble floor. The third grabs me from behind, but I shift my weight, using his own momentum to flip him over to the ground. Just as he scrambles to his feet, the first rays of sunlight streak across the windowpane, bathing the hall in incandescent gold.
One by one, my opponents fall still. Their black attire is now tattered from the cuts I’ve inflicted, bruises forming around their jaws and eyes, yet they remain perfectly still instead of unleashing their wrath on me. Not because they want to, but because I have won.
Breathless, I rise, my knives still poised in my hands, my body trembling from exertion. I turn my gaze upward, locking my eyes with my father. His lips curve into the barest hint of a smile.
Approval.
Relief.
Absolute joy.
Felix’s expression remains cold, but I can see the respect swimming in his eyes.
And Jude…
Rolo and Remus are currently holding his arms behind his back to keep him still while he stares at me as if he no longer recognizes the girl he thought he knew.
The realization settles into my bones, a strange mix of triumph and finality.
I’ve done what I set out to do.
Only time will tell if it was the right thing.