Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Brooks
Iusually only found other people pathetic.
Yet here I was, bruised to hell in the Devil’s Lair with my mind stuck on Daphne.
Every time the door made a sound, I looked at it, expecting her to walk through.
I hadn’t planned on going to her last night.
Definitely hadn’t planned on letting her see me so broken.
She was the only person who could calm me. Maybe the Fawn bullshit was real.
Across from me, Enzo sat forward with his forearms planted on his knees like he was seconds away from grounding me. “We need to talk about last night.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I fished my phone from my pocket and acted like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
“I enjoyed the show actually,” Cassian said from beside me.
No fucking shocker there.
Give Cassian a drink, bloodshed, and someone else’s drama, and the fucker was entertained for hours.
Enzo slowly turned his head toward him, pinning Cassian with that same disapproving look.
“When the lights go out, the fight ends,” he said in that same goddamn motherfucking tone. “That’s the rule.”
“Fuck the rules,” Nico said, tossing a football toward the ceiling and catching it one-handed.
I dragged a knuckle under the cut on my cheek and hissed when I hit the tender skin. I’d refused stitches.
“What happened to”—I dropped my voice into a mock version of his—“I piss on the rules and wipe my ass with the consequences?”
He’d once said those exact words to me.
Enzo had broken more Son rules than anyone alive. He’d beaten Elder Sons. Killed a few. Yet, somehow, I was the problem because I’d punched Cory a few extra times.
Fucking hypocrite.
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Enzo argued. “I couldn’t care less if you’d beaten Cory to death.”
I tapped a finger I was positive was broken against my glass.
Enzo set his glass onto the coffee table and laced his hands between his knees.
Here’s Dad Enzo again.
I wanted Murderous Enzo back. Dad Enzo was getting on my fucking nerves.
“There’s a difference between us,” he continued. “The Elders are terrified of my family. They aren’t of yours. They won’t exile me out of fear of dying. But you, they’ll kick out. Your family’s power depends on the Sons. Your future depends on it.”
Nico stopped tossing the football.
Cassian downed his drink.
Cedric lowered his phone, which was impressive considering I was sure the damn thing was surgically attached to his hand at all times.
Even Emeri, who’d been quietly sitting in the corner, scribbling in his notebook, gave a single nod in agreement.
Enzo was right.
A presidency wasn’t forever.
But Mafia empires lasted for generations.
Enzo wasn’t finished. “Not to mention, you need them if you want to be sitting in the Oval Office someday.”
“Yeah, bro.” Cedric went back to scrolling. “If I become boss of the family, I’ll need you in the White House.” He finally looked up at me. “Think about how much power we’ll have together.”
“Hear, hear.” Cassian lifted his empty glass.
“Nothing says genuine friendship like political corruption,” I said in mock offense.
“It’d go both ways, fucker,” Cassian fired back. “If you don’t become president, I’ll still have your back.”
No one argued with that.
“If all else fails, join us,” Nico said. “You’d get away with a hell of a lot more.”
Cedric grimaced. “Can you imagine having to wait for Congress to approve all your decisions?”
Cassian shuddered. “Or pretend you have a conscience when at war with someone.”
“Technically, we have different kinds of wars,” Emeri pointed out. “We only kill fuckers who deserve it. No innocent blood on our hands.”
Again, all the guys nodded.
“Remember that.” Nico tapped the side of his head. “You always have a seat with us.”
As much as I wanted to believe them, none of them were in charge yet. They’d only become bosses or move up the ranks when the men above them stepped down or died.
If I joined the Mafia now, I’d have a position just above rats. I also didn’t take orders well enough to spend years kissing someone’s ring.
The door opened, and I stopped listening to whatever the fuck they were saying when Daphne walked in.
My body went hot, but I tried to blame that on the four pain pills I’d washed down earlier.
She scanned the room. I knew that move. I did the same thing every time I walked in here.
Looking for her.
When she found me, she stopped.
I tensed. Something was wrong. Her shoulders were drawn tight, her chin tucked low. She wouldn’t hold my stare.
She wore black leggings instead of one of those little skirts I liked seeing her in. Her zip-up sweater was pulled all the way to her throat.
“Daph!” Adelina waved a pizza slice in the air.
Daphne ducked her head and headed toward the girls.
“You ready for her Initiation?” Cedric asked me.
His grating-ass voice pulled me away from watching Daphne.
I considered punching him for it. “Yeah.”
“Bullshit,” Nico coughed into his fist.
If you’d asked me six months ago, I’d have said I couldn’t wait for her Initiation. I wanted her to suffer for what her father had done.
Now? I wanted to call the entire thing off and claim skipping the first two parts of the Fawn Initiation was another rule change.
For the first time, I understood why Enzo had been willing to burn the entire fucking system down for Blair.
I emptied what remained of my bourbon. Mixing pills with hard liquor was a terrible idea. Add it to the fucking list.
“Making her your Fawn was a good choice,” Nico said.
Emeri slid his pen behind his ear. “It’ll get her out of your system.”
“You can have your fun, and then she’ll go back to …” Nico paused, snapping his fingers while waiting for someone to fill in the blank. No one did. “Fuck, where’s she from again?”
“Calira,” I supplied.
Nico nodded, though I doubted he’d remember that in ten minutes. “I wish I could ship my Fawn off to a different country.”
“We told you to wait before choosing one,” I reminded him.
This was his first year to select a Fawn. Dumbass had forgotten he was stuck with whoever he chose for an entire year. Now the rest of us were stuck listening to him bitch about her.
“Can I try that sweater on, Daphne?” Adelina asked her.
I peered over at them as my sister licked hot sauce off her fingers before finding her manners and using a napkin.
She smiled at Daphne. “I want to order one, but I’m not sure what size I am.”
Daphne fidgeted with the sweater sleeve before slowly standing.
Adelina froze halfway through taking the sweater from her. “Who the hell gave you that bruise?”
I was on my feet before I knew I’d moved.