CHAPTER 6
MAISY
The rain is relentless, a steady drumbeat against the sleek black car waiting by the curb.
It’s a fitting soundtrack to the months of grief and violence that have piled up like storm clouds.
My heels click against the wet sidewalk, and I shiver despite the heavy coat wrapped tightly around me.
I don’t have to look back to know Orion, Logan, and Kai are following.
Their presence is like a shadow—dark and heavy.
It wasn’t a full year since our engagement when all this started happening. Instead of wedding arrangements, the only plans happening at our home are those of retaliation and revenge.
Emilio opens the car door, his face as stony as ever. He doesn’t need to say anything. None of us does. The funeral already said it all—another man gone, another life stolen in this endless war we never wanted but can’t seem to outrun.
I slide into the backseat; Orion follows, his movement stiff and deliberate.
His bruised face is turned away, but the swollen knuckles on his bandaged hand are still evident.
Logan winces as he climbs in next to me, his limp is worse today.
And Kai sits opposite us, the bruising across his knuckles already darkening and his jaw muscles twitching.
The car door slams shut, and for a moment, the only sound is the rain and our collective breathing.
“They’re getting bolder,” Orion mutters, his voice low and hard. His silver rings catch the dim light as he rubs his good hand over his face. The bruises along his cheekbone are starting to turn purple. “Whoever’s behind this isn’t afraid of us anymore.”
“Because we’ve made ourselves vulnerable,” Logan says bitterly. He leans back, closing his eyes. “Three families merged into one syndicate—it was supposed to make us stronger, but there are too many moving parts, too many leaks.”
“Every damn week it’s another attack, another funeral.” Orion lets out a sharp breath. “We don’t even have time to figure out who’s infiltrating us because we’re too busy burying our own.”
“And yet no one talks.” Kai grinds his teeth. “No one saw anything. No one heard anything. We’re surrounded by ghosts.”
“Um…” I begin quietly, wary of the tension between them.
“Not quite.” It’s been a while since I’ve had flashbacks of my past, but today, I think something came back.
“I may have seen a ghost this morning at the funeral. A man in a gray suit. He had a tattoo of the sun of Vergina on his right hand. He paid his respects and left quickly, but I could swear he was one of Milan’s men. ”
The air in the car shifts. Orion’s head snaps toward me, his eyes narrowing. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as I can be from a glimpse,” I say, meeting his gaze.
Orion’s jaw clenches and he turns to Emilio. “Drive faster.”
“Drop Maisy off first,” Logan adds.
I stiffen, casting my eyes between them. “Why?”
Kai sighs. “Maisy, not this again. Our life as we know it is getting too dangerous. You need to stay with the kids.”
“You think I don’t know it’s dangerous?” My voice comes out sharper than I intended. “I’ve been to just as many funerals as you have. Don’t tell me I can’t help. My club is—”
Orion cuts me off. “We’re not telling you. We’re ordering you.”
His words hit like a slap; I stare at him, hurt. His gaze softens for a fraction of a second, but he doesn’t take it back. He never does.
They don’t get it. Ever since I started the women’s club, we’ve been quietly reshaping the syndicate, and still are.
We’ve turned the empty warehouse into a soup kitchen where we feed hundreds of people weekly, people who then become our ears and eyes on the street.
Our ‘small business loans’ help dozens of struggling single mothers to start legitimate enterprises, companies that could potentially help our men launder money in the future.
The domestic violence rates have dropped, not just because of the self-defense classes that Celina holds on the downlow, but because word has gotten around that we protect our own.
Even the corrupt cops think twice now before harassing local women—funny how quickly things change when you have leverage.
We may operate in the shadows, but we are using everything we source to help our men.
Logan reaches out, his hand brushing mine. “Don’t mind him,” he says quietly. “He’s just…We’re just…We don’t know what to do.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to shut me out,” I say, my voice breaking. “I’m not just some bystander. I’m—”
“You’re what keeps us grounded,” Kai interrupts, his tone gentler than Orion’s but just as firm. He pulls me into his side, his warmth soothing. “You’re what we’re trying to protect.”
I lean against him, too tired to fight anymore. The adrenaline that carried me through the day is gone, leaving nothing but exhaustion and the ache of too many losses. “I just want to do something,” I say. “Anything.”
“You will,” Logan says, “but not this.”
The car falls silent again; the rain is the only sound I hear.
I close my eyes, resting my head on Kai’s shoulder, and try to focus on thoughts of home.
Of my babies waiting for me, and Sasha and Leila looking after them.
But even that comfort feels fragile, like it could shatter with the next attack.
And for some reason, something tugs at my mind.
I remember our last meeting at the club, as I watched the dining room transform with each new arrival.
Lisa arranged pastries on platters while Celina checked windows and doors—security habits die hard.
Angelina was there; Leila too. Sasha was still flushed from chasing my children around the house, getting them ready to leave with the boys.
Luckily, they didn’t want her to join them that day, so she stayed for our meeting.
“Ladies,” I called out, tapping at my glass with a teaspoon, “welcome to the official meeting of what Orion, Logan, and Kai are now calling ‘Rebellion Sisters.’”
Laughter rippled through the room, consisting of more than twenty powerful women ready to share secrets their husbands and boyfriends would kill to be privy to.
“He’s not wrong,” Lisa quipped. “Though I prefer ‘Rebel Queens.’ It’s more dramatic.”
“More accurate ,” Celina added, leaning against the doorway and looking sharp with her cropped hair and tailored suit.
“So.” I settled into my chair at the head of the table. “Do we have any updates?”
Angelina raised her hand, gold bracelets jangling. “I finally convinced Adam to let me see the books for the shipping business.”
“And?”
“They’re hemorrhaging money.” She rolled her eyes. “Half a million in the last quarter alone. He’s been hiding it from my father.”
Uncle Colletti would skin Adam alive if he knew. Better yet, I didn’t even know what would happen to him when the news reached Orion. But it had been agreed that what was said here would never leave the room without prior consent.
“I could fix it in a month,” Angelina continued. At thirty-two, she’d earned two business degrees before marrying Adam. Her brilliant mind was being wasted on charity galas and home decor. “Their distribution channels are prehistoric.”
“Document everything,” Lisa advised. “Create a solution they can’t ignore.”
“That’s assuming they’ll listen,” Leila said quietly.
Our housekeeper rarely spoke at these meetings, but when she did, I listened. As one of Orion’s most trusted women, she knew a lot of secrets about New York’s underworld.
“Men like Uncle Colletti only hear money talking,” I replied. “If Angelina can save half a million, he’ll be forced to acknowledge her.”
“You should just tell him,” Sasha chimed in, helping herself to a pastry.
“Not a good idea. Even if your father puts you in charge.” Celina turned to Angelina. “No one would want to report to a woman.”
I surveyed the members of our gathering: all brilliant women, pushed to the margins of a world they understood better than the men who ruled it.
Even if Orion, Logan, and Kai would listen, they still had associates or consiglieres with whom they’d have to confer.
It’s not easy to eradicate misogyny, that’s for sure.
“This is why we need each other,” Gizelle said. “Separately, they can dismiss us. Together…” She let the implication linger.
“Together, we could run this city better than they ever could,” Georgina finished. Georgina was one of the cornerstones of the club—like many of the women in that room, really.
“We basically already do,” Angelina scoffed. “Who handles the legitimate business interfaces? Who maintains the social connections that keep law enforcement looking the other way? Who raises the next generation of leaders?”
“While they’re playing with their guns, we’re building their empires,” Georgina agreed.
“You know what’s funny?” Celina’s voice held a dangerous edge. “If we ever decided to stage a real coup, we’d win.”
The room fell silent.
“Don’t look so scandalized,” she continued. “We have dirt on every major player in this city, as well as further afield. We know their schedules, their weaknesses, their secret vices. Hell, we have most of them by the balls—literally.”
A trickle of nervous laughter broke out.
“She’s not wrong,” Lisa mused. “Between us, we could probably access every important account, property deed, and blackmail file in the syndicate.”
I remembered the look on Orion’s face when I first mentioned these meetings—he’d understood, even if he wouldn’t admit it. We weren’t just wives and sisters and daughters. We were a network, as dangerous as any rival family.
“We’re not staging a coup,” I clarified, though the idea sent a delicious thrill down my spine. “We’re creating a partnership. The world is changing. Old ways die hard, but they do die.”
“Tell that to my father,” Angelina muttered.
“Actually…” I leaned forward in my seat. “I have some news. Orion, Logan, and Kai have agreed to formally present our security initiative to the council.”
Celina straightened. “You’re serious?”