Chapter 2
Two
Ashton
What a colossal fuck-up. What was supposed to be a get-together for Nova’s birthday transpired into me getting orders to shoot my best friend and teammate, along with his fake girlfriend.
I lie back on the sofa, stretching out, drinking a beer.
I crave something to take my mind off what the hell went down this weekend. Thankfully, I was able to high-tail it out before their little family dinner.
I wanted zero involvement in the Ricci dinner dynamics. It doesn’t take a genius to see that hell was going to be unleashed on Luca and Harper.
I actually like Luca. As a friend, he’s great company and loyal, and as a roommate, he keeps his shit tidy. As a teammate, well, I know I can depend on him on the ice.
But having his father give me orders to kill my friend if Luca didn’t kill Harper, well, that was some next-level fucked-up drama.
I’d have done it, because my old man, Aureilo, and Dante are friends, but I’m not thrilled about what was asked of me.
Luca should be home soon, assuming his father didn’t murder him, no exaggeration.
I flip through the channels on our streaming app and nurse a beer.
It’s Saturday night, getting late, but I should be out at a party, not replaying the night’s events over in my head.
What a shitshow.
The front door squeaks open, and I glance over my shoulder.
Turns out Luca Ricci is still alive.
“I guess I’m not taking your position on the ice.”
“Dark sarcasm, that’s cute, but I’m not in the mood.” Luca’s voice reeks of annoyance and anger.
He’s usually so levelheaded, except when it comes to Harper McKenna.
I sit up on the sofa, toss my legs over the side and glance at him, intrigued. “Your little engagement not going according to plan?” I smirk, knowing it’ll piss him off. I can just feel the rage boiling off of him.
“No thanks to you,” Luca growls at me and tosses his duffel bag on the floor. He drops his coat and shoes with it.
He’s usually a bit tidier, but I just take another drink from my beer bottle and watch him cautiously. “Dinner went well, I take it.”
He flips me off and storms into the kitchen, hitting the light switch on the wall. He opens and shuts the fridge repeatedly before banging around with the pots and pans.
It’s giving me a headache.
“What the hell is your problem?” I shout at him and get my ass up off the sofa.
Fuck. I was just getting comfortable.
“You’re my problem,” Luca seethes and drops the metal pot onto the stove. “She’s my problem.”
He apparently has a list of who’s wronged him.
Can’t say I’m surprised that I’ve made the cut, especially after the shit that happened last night.
“Not marrying her?” I guess, a bit relieved. I’d hate to see him throw his life away for a girl he hardly knows. I can’t help but smile as I sip my beer and watch his frustration get taken out on our cookware.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Luca growls and rushes at me. “You’ve been eyeing her all semester, vying for her attention.”
While I did have a little crush on Harper when I first met her, I realized Luca had it bad for her, and his streak of jealousy wasn’t going to help our friendship or the team.
Dad always taught me to put the team first, or maybe he’d actually meant the mafia, but I’m just using those words interchangeably. To me, they’re both blood, family. Then again, I did hold a gun on Luca last night.
Not surprised he’s pissed.
“Trust me, I’m not the one interested in marrying her,” I say.
He laughs darkly.
“That’s not what you said when you met her,” he reminds me of my words, the ones where I swore I’d met the girl who I’d marry.
“Well, I was wrong. She clearly has eyes for you. I’m not going to compete with that,” I say. If he’s looking for a fight from me, I’m not giving it to him.
He drops a half-dozen ingredients into the pan, mostly veggies and some chicken, and watches the stove.
“What’s gotten into you?” I ask.
“Seriously?” His gaze shoots up at me. “You were ready to follow my father’s orders without so much as considering our brotherhood.”
“Don’t take it personal, my father and your dad are friends. I’m going to run the business one day, it’s just—an order.”
“Killing me is just a fucking order?” Luca shouts, his eyes wide, and I’m not sure he won’t flip the pan at me. At least the food isn’t sizzling hot yet. The pan, though, I’m not entirely sure. I take a step back.
I can see his father’s rage in him.
“You’ll make a good don,” I say, hoping to ease the tension.
“I don’t fucking want to be a don!” Luca grabs the nearest knife from the counter and throws it at me.
I duck just in time as it whizzes right past and slams into the wall. It would have taken out my eye or maybe my forehead. Not terrible aim.
“I don’t think we’re getting our safety deposit back,” I joke, trying to make light of the situation.
Before I have time to hear his answer, I stalk backward out of the kitchen, not waiting for the second knife to strike.
“Asshole,” I mutter.
“I heard that!” Luca shouts back at me.
“Good, it was meant for you to hear.” I collapse back onto the sofa, trying to unwind, but it seems near impossible when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number, so I send the call to voicemail.
A second later, it buzzes with a text from the same unknown number.
It’s Dante. Pick up the damn phone.
Why the hell is Luca’s father calling and texting me? I glance at Luca, who is still preoccupied in the kitchen, and opt to take the call in my bedroom.
My cell phone rings again, and this time, I answer the call just as I step into my room, closing the door behind myself. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”