Dangerous Secrets (DeMarco Family Mafia #1)

Prologue

Sage

When I imagine how I would kill someone, I picture doing it with a knife to their jugular. Maybe a quick stab to the heart, then a swipe across the throat. We'd be face to face, so I could look them in the eye while they slip away.

I see a bloody battle. Adrenaline taking me like a wild animal as I fight rabidly for the killing blow. Teeth bared. Blood dripping. Something poetic and cinematic.

Of course, this is only an epic fantasy of a person I'm not. I'm far too weak to kill. A weakness I'm reminded of right now.

The house is dark as the night, with only the moonlight shining through the second-floor windows to light my path.

My feet shake as I struggle to steady myself, stumbling down our hallway and smearing bloody handprints along the walls as I go.

I can only see what's right in front of me, my breath coming in harsh pants that echo in my head.

I paste a bloody handprint on my chest as I gasp and double over in horror. I did this.

No. I shake the thoughts away. I have to keep going. I have to make it. Even if only my memory of my home guides me down the hall.

I pause when I see red dripping at my feet. I've left a trail of blood. Tiny crimson tear drops pave the way I came. Blood drips from my temple, down my chin and onto the tile.

There's more blood on my hands too. But that's not mine.

Masked men were waiting in my room, trying to grab me, when I snuck back inside through the window. One of my father's men tackled them to the ground before they could get a shot at me. The blood on my hands is his. I'd tried to help him; instead, he told me to run.

But running seems too risky. Running is loud.

I hear a thump somewhere behind me and turn panicked towards the sound. There's nothing there, so I continue forward on hushed feet. Just across the hall from Dad's office, I'm almost there when I pause. My father's pained groan reaches me from across the space. As does the sound of smacking flesh.

"Stay the fuck down if you know what's good for you, Dimitri."

I slap a hand over my mouth and press my eyes shut as I suppress a sob.

"Why are you here?" My dad's voice.

I peer around the corner and can vaguely see into Dad's office through the open double doors. Three muscled-looking guys dressed in all black stand over him where he's crumpled on the floor next to his desk. They all have guns; the main guy's out and trained on my dad.

"You know what we want," the main one says.

I recognize him. He's the one I opened the gate for. The guy holding a gun in Dad's face... I'm the one that let him in the front gate.

"Where's the girl?"

As I watch on, I can't bring myself to move. Overruling fear won't even allow me to hide around the corner. All I can do is stare and hope they don't see me. There's no fight in me. No flight. Just complete ice pinning me in place.

"One last time, Dimitri. Where's. The. Girl?"

The girl? They can't possibly mean me? Dad shakes his head. But I know he'd lie. If it were to protect me, he would never break. He would never lead them to me the way I led them to him.

Boots pound up the stairs, and finally gaining some sense, I scramble into the shadows to hide, feet slipping beneath me.

Another guy enters the room.

"Well?" the leader addresses him without looking away from my dad.

"She's not here."

The leader cocks his head. "You can't possibly know that. This place is huge."

The newcomer doesn't look nervous. "I couldn't get much out of them, but I'm told she-" They talk quietly enough that I miss the end of the sentence.

A few beats pass where no one speaks. All that can be heard is Dad's heavy breathing. He slumps against the desk, head resting skyward.

"Slippery." The main one finally breaks the silence, his voice a smile. He checks his weapon, filling it with bullets and no bother for a silencer.

He aims and fires into my dad's chest without warning.

I flinch, my gasp covered by the gun's echoing bang.

Dad's shoulders drop as he hisses, gritting his teeth and breathing through his nose in angry huffs. He's knocked aside when the main guy kicks him square in the jaw.

A tear traces my cheek and drips onto my chin.

Just like that, they're leaving. I barely get my body hidden, back pressed firmly against the wall around the corner, before they pass me, heading down the stairs. Whether the job is finished or they're continuing their search, I can't miss this chance.

I stand on shaky legs and rush across the open hallway, dropping to my knees beside Dad where he lies on his side.

"Sage?" he coughs, blood seeping out the sides of his mouth. I grip his shoulders and place him back in a sitting position against the glass window. "You need to get out of here. Hide."

"Not without you. Can you walk?" I hold his hand against mine and stare in wide-eyed shock horror, tears pouring down my face as his blood drenches our hands. The gaping wound in his stomach gushes.

"I - I didn't- this wasn't- Dad, I'm sorry," I say, scrambling to put my hands over his wounds and sobbing when I can't hold pressure on them all at once.

"Sage, stop," he says, trying to pull my hands away. "It won't help."

I sob again. "Why? What's going on?" I finally look around his office. The usually pristine space, equipped with leather chairs, bookcases and dark furniture fit for a mafia kingpin, is now in disarray.

Books have been pulled from the shelves, files discarded from their drawers and strewn about like confetti, rips and tears making a home on the upholstery.

It's ransacked.

"W-What were they looking for?"

"Me."

I look around again. He's lying. I know what I heard.

He must see the look in my eye because he says, "Don't. Let this one go, anima mia."

There's stumbling behind me that has me struggling and gasping, panicking that we've been found.

But finally, Uncle Anton makes his way into the room.

From wherever the fuck he's been in the middle of all this.

His gray suit is disheveled, the white shirt tugged free and splayed with blood spatter, his fine dark hair running loose over his eyes, and his gun gripped tight in his fists.

He searches the space before his eyes land on us, softening only when he takes us in. "Fuck, Dimitri!" Anton says. He locks eyes with Dad.

Anton quickly joins us, kneeling on my dad's other side.

"Sage, are you hurt?" he asks. I shake my head. I'm so relieved to see him here. Scared out of my mind and way out of my depth, I can't handle this alone.

"Christ, Dimitri," Anton gasps, his gaze roaming the litany of Dad's injuries.

"I know, brother," Dad says, letting out a breath rattled with blood.

"They were-"

"I know," Dad says, giving Uncle Anton a hard look.

"Shit," Anton says, his nostrils flaring in a rare outburst of anger. "How did they even get through the fucking gates?!"

I avert my eyes and try not to look guilty and small. Sweat forms on my brow, coating my neck as the world around me suddenly goes very black. The edges of my dread close in on me.

"I don't know, Anton," Dad says. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the window. I can see his body fading, his skin paling. His mind is still there but working to keep up with us. I can see it behind his eyes, the desire to give up.

"Dimitri, if-"

"Just hold my hand, brother..." He gives my uncle a pleading look. "I don't have long."

"What?! Dad-"

"Ssh, it's alright," Dad coos, trying to comfort me.

We fall into stunned silence. Anton is no longer arguing, and I'm no longer pressing my hands against his wounds. Instead, I'm afraid to touch him, like my poison will only open him further. Bleed him out quicker.

"I love you, anima mia. I'm so proud of you. I always have been."

"Dad, just hold on a bit longer, you don't need to-" I choke on a sob.

When I imagined how I would kill someone...

I cannot - cannot - have done this. I'm only twenty-two years old. I'm meant to be living carefree and thinking about my future. I'm not meant to be responsible for letting my dad's murderer onto the property. I'm not supposed to be the reason anyone dies.

He opens his arms for me. "Sage, come here."

I dive into his arms without thought, glad for the welcome, and crush my arms around him as he holds me close too.

Anton grips Dad's hand in his. "I've got you. And her."

Dad nods once, gratefully, at my uncle. His mouth opens as if to say something else, but instead he takes his final breath.

I feel it as it pushes out of his lungs. I watch as his eyes glaze over. As he goes very, very still. I watch him die.

I want to scream, but my throat constricts. Freezes. Dries out in panic. Those men... they came here and murdered my dad. When I imagined how I would kill someone, I didn't imagine that it would be my own father I'd kill.

Now I have a secret that will have to go with me to my grave. That is, if I ever learn to live with myself.

I knew who those men were.

I let them inside the gates on purpose.