Dante
Death is an ever-present shadow for men like me. It looms over us daily, and strikes when you least expect it. Made men are all familiar with the loss of life. We know that the clock stops ticking for every single one of us eventually. Knowing that doesn’t make it hurt any less when the cold chill of murder sweeps through a kingdom.
The Kings have been a formidable organization for decades now. A strong but smart force of British mobsters residing in the heart of New York City crime. And yet, somehow, they’ve been slain in a manner that makes even my stomach churn. The youngest Knight son executed like a dog in front of his young love’s eyes. The heir son moments from bleeding out when my kin found him—the man may still lose his life. And their father, their Monarch, missing but assumed gravely harmed if not deceased. All in one fell swoop.
None of it is logical.
The Kings have enemies, all Empires worth noting do, but they aren’t at war. They’re in an era of peace—or at least, they should be. Who would have the Knight children kidnapped and toyed with to their demise? Who would leave Ana physically untouched in the process?
She’d be a regular young woman if it weren’t for her mother marrying Bron. When you attach yourself to the head of any crime family, you become family. And still, she wasn’t made into a target. She wasn’t harmed or murdered by Cole’s side.
So, why does it seem like even though she’s alive, she was the true target of this assault? Her stepbrothers, one of whom she appears to have been dating, shot in front of her… only for her to be released?
Why is one of my daughter’s best friends at the center of this?
Who the hell would want to torture Ana Knight of all people like this?
“Ana has a concussion,” Anatoly reports, seconds after letting himself into my office. Apollo, Cassio, Elio, Armani, and Nico all look up at the sound of his voice.
The five of my sons and I have been scouring our contacts, looking for any information to go on. They returned shortly after Ivan called for Doc on Ana’s behalf. She believes she was drugged after the car crash that assisted in capturing herself and her stepbrothers. Dmitri, Matteo, and Remo are all upstairs with Ivan and my daughter, rallying around Ana for support.
“It is mild,” he continues, the tall Russian guard walking closer to our group. His accent is still thicker than Dmitri or Ivan’s, but his vocabulary and cadence have come more naturally after months of living with our family. “Her memory lapses seem to be a symptom of disassociation, rather than a side effect of the head trauma. She is remembering things, but her brain is trying to stop her.”
“Drugs?” Nico asks while his eyes scan his computer.
“Da,” Anatoly confirms. “A light sedative. No traces of anything lethal in her blood.”
“Did they touch her?” Cassio inquires with a cold tone. My third-born son hasn’t appeared this disturbed in… years. Violence of any kind against women unsettles us all, but perhaps him the most.
“She says no,” Anatoly replies, looking conflicted.
Apollo lifts a brow. “Does Doc say no as well?”
“There are no physical indicators.”
“You’re not saying something,” Nico drones the accusation without even eyeing the Russian. For a man with a kill count as high as his, my Nico sure seems to understand the human psyche better than most.
“She has a bruise on her breast,” he admits with a small wince. “But Jade told Dmitri that it was from Cole.”
Nico practically yawns at the information. “And that’s worth withholding because?”
“I feel it is odd to report on the intimate lives of my Koroleva’s friends. But it is new, Cole and Ana had never…” He trails off, trying to find the words.
“You think they started fucking recently and perhaps that act could have prompted the situation we’re currently in?” Elio concludes, brows knitting down.
“I would not bet money on it.” Anatoly shakes his head. “If it were the reason and I did not say anything—”
“You did the right thing,” I interrupt. “Nothing is too personal when something like this happens. Ana could still be in danger, we need all of the information we can get our hands on.”
“Since no one seems to know a fucking thing,” Cassio grits out, angerly typing on his tablet.
“Have you made contact with anyone from The Kings?” Armani asks, swinging his eyes between Apollo and me. His tattooed knuckles crack as he fidgets while his knee bounces. He’s unsettled after coming back from the bloody warehouse, and I don’t blame him.
“Bron’s second was Killian,” I reply, rubbing a hand down my face. “I don’t know who to trust. This could very well be an inside job.”
“They’re going to notice all of The Knight family is missing,” Apollo points out amicably.
“We could ask Colton,” Armani suggests with a frown. “Dustin was friendly with Cole, he might know who the safest contact would be.”
Colton Wyatt is Armani’s long time best friend and heir to The Outlaws. His younger brother Dustin is a quiet kid, but if my son trusts his judgement, it’s a good enough place to start.
“Call him on a secure line,” I advise before pointing my gaze to Apollo. “We need to contact Ana’s mother as well.”
“We’re going to have a difficult time with that,” he mutters gravely, eyes locked on the screen in his lap.
My head shakes, devastation for Ana threatening to creep in. “No.”
“Remo has been hacking into their security systems from his phone. Vivian was staying in their London home. There’s a lapse in footage and then—” He turns the screen.
My hope for Ana sinks at the clear sight.
Vivian Knight lies on her back, pale face unblinking at the ceiling. Both of her forearms are slashed from wrist to inner elbow, pools of blood surrounding her body. All around her, soaking in her spilled DNA, are pictures of her daughter. Pictures that make it look like she wasn’t just kidnapped, but was killed along with her stepbrothers.
“This is a live feed,” Apollo reports with his monotone voice and a blank expression on his face.
“That’s fucking sick,” Elio grimaces, looking away from the screen.
“What is it?” Armani asks, not able to see from his chair.
Waving Apollo off so that he’ll remove the gruesome video from my sight, I heave a deep sigh. “Her mother is dead.”
“What the fuck?” Cassio seethes. “How?”
“She killed herself, or someone did an excellent job of making it look like she did,” Apollo replies. “Either way, someone made her think Ana was dead before it happened.”
“This is seriously twisted,” Armani says, pinching his brows. “Colton’s calling on a secure line. He’s with Dustin.”
“Put him on speaker,” Nico directs. “I want to hear if they lie.”
Armani scowls at him. “It’s Colton, he’s not on trial.”
“Just do it,” Nico insists.
“Whatever.”
Seconds later, Armani’s phone rings and he accepts the call, switching the volume to speaker.
“It’s me, we’re here,” Colton says with his familiar southern drawl.
“Hey, we’ve got a situation here,” Armani greets, wasting no time. “The Kings have been attacked.”
A beat of silence passes.
“Seriously?” Colton asks.
“Attacked how?” his brother tacks on.
“Cole Knight is dead,” Armani reports robotically. “Killian’s supposed to be as well, but he’s hanging on. Ana is here, she’s pretty fucking shaken up, but they didn’t hurt her physically.”
“Cole is dead?” Dustin’s voice is all husk as he asks. “Are you sure?”
“They shot him in front of Ana,” my son replies with a wince. “Right between the eyes. We have his body now. Killian is only still breathing because they nicked the side of his heart instead of hitting it head on. He still might not make it, though.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Colton curses harshly. “What about Bron?”
“Ana thinks he’s dead too, but they didn’t leave his body if he is. They could have taken him alive and injured.”
There’s a crackle of silence and then Colton’s southern drawl returns. “Do you know who…?”
“Not yet,” Armani answers like a vow. “Does Dustin know who we should reach out to in that camp? We don’t even know where to start or if we can trust anyone at all.”
“What about Ana’s mother?”
Armani clears his throat, working the words up. “She’s no longer with us. Found dead in London.”
“Jesus Christ,” one of them curses.
“Yeah,” Armani agrees. “So, you can see we’re in a bit of a bind. Any connection you might have… it would help.”
A few seconds of quiet follow my son’s request. And then—
“The Duke,” Dustin finally says. “Gerard Davies. He’s a sarcastic cunt, reminds me way too much of every Jason Statham character but he… He was like a mentor to Cole. Cole trusted him to guard Ana multiple times, and Killian is his kid’s godfather. I’ve met him before and would bet my life on him being safe. No way he’d be involved in this.”
Armani doesn’t respond until I give him a signal of approval. Watching my chin dip, his shoulders relax an inch. “Can you both come? We’ll arrange a meet, but it might be good for him to see Dustin as a familiar face.”
Nico makes a low sound of protest but doesn’t open his mouth when I pin him with a stern glance. His aversion to “outsiders” is going to have to take a back seat for a while. There’s going to be a lot of shit happening in the next few days that he’ll hate, but they’re going to happen regardless.
“We can be there in five hours,” Colton says. “I’ll need to let our father know.”
“No,” Nico says immediately.
I don’t have time to reprimand him before Colton chuckles. “See you soon, Nico. So nice talking to you, as always. Dad won’t say a word, I’m only warning him that his children are diving face first into danger once again.”
“Informing Levi is fine,” I finally voice. “Watch your backs, we don’t know what the fuck we’re dealing with.”
“No worries, Father Dante, we got this.”
Despite the somber situation, my lips twitch at his preferred nickname for me. He’s called me Father Dante since we met when he was five years old and he assumed that I was a Priest. Apparently, the only men in Texas wearing suits like mine were men of God or the ones in their funeral boxes. At least, that’s what Levi Wyatt told me after the interaction.
Any other smart alec little shit calling me something other than Capo, Dante, or Dad, would get put on their ass. But I have an apparent soft spot for the cowboy my son calls his best friend.
The phone call ends quickly and Nico begins to silently sulk while I think of our next steps. Ana needs to be under our protection, no matter how trustworthy we find this Gerard to be. I will not let my daughter lose her best girlfriend on top of everything else. Jade has been through enough.
Even if the two girls weren’t such close friends, I would feel inclined to step in. Protecting women is something that Moretti men will always do. We’re called to it. It’s in our blood.
Turning to Apollo, I find him already watching me. We don’t need to say a word to know that we’re on the same page. We can read each other better than anyone else. I’ve taught him everything my father taught me, and in turn, he’s taught me more as he’s grown. I may currently be in the position of Capo, but he could step in at any moment and run The Outfit confidently and without hesitation.
“Keeping Ana and Killian safe has to be our main priority.” My words are firm, a command, not a question or suggestion.
Apollo slowly nods. “Well, Killian is as secure as he’s going to get. He’s with doctors in the same place any one of us would be if we were dying. He’s not going to get any more protected than where he is.”
“What do we do about Ana?” Elio asks, looking at his brothers and then to me. “She can’t just hide out here. The Kings will assume we took her.”
“Let them think what they want,” Nico says menacingly. He doesn’t care about angering people.
“Too bad we don’t have a formal alliance,” Armani mutters. “That’d be really fucking helpful right now.”
Apollo’s ears seem to twitch at that.
Cassio notices it, too. “You just thought of something. What?”
“We don’t have a formal alliance, but we could make one,” he notes casually. As easily as he makes the suggestion, I can tell that he’s still mulling it over in his head, unsure.
Cassio arches a doubtful brow. “How exactly do you propose we do that with no Bron and no Killian?”
“Funny you should use the word propose,” Apollo remarks, tilting his head at his brother.
“You want her to marry into the family?” I gather, badly masking my surprise. Far be it from Apollo to suggest anything having to do with an arranged marriage. He’s been avoiding one himself for nearly a decade now.
He merely shrugs. “It seems like the simplest solution.”
“You’re not serious,” Elio protests.
“Why not?” Apollo challenges. “If she’s married to one of us, it’s quite clear we’re protecting her, and her friendship with Jade is an easy explanation for a relationship forming between our families. Whoever she is attached to can stand in Bron’s place until Killian is awake. We’ll have a connection to keep her safe, and a reason to snoop in The Kings ranks for information about who’s responsible for this fucking mess.”
“She’s bound to be traumatized and you want to throw her into a marriage,” Armani grimaces. “Is that really the best idea?”
“It’s not like any of us are going to expect an actual wife out of her,” Apollo argues. “At least not any time soon. She’ll be like a roommate.”
Cassio looks wary. “I don’t know…”
“Someone is going to need to make sure she doesn’t hurl herself out of her penthouse,” Nico mutters darkly.
“That’s so fucked.” Elio shakes his head.
“This whole situation is fucked,” Nico counters.
That it is.
Armani scrubs a hand down his face and groans. “Who exactly are you suggesting she marry?”
“I’m suggesting we give her a choice between two of us,” Apollo decides. “Give the girl a sliver of control over this disaster and it just might make her feel safe.”
“I’m not volunteering,” Elio says immediately. “I have no interest in going to New York to run a syndicate of Brits who’ll hate my goddamn guts.”
“Pussy,” Nico scoffs.
Elio glares at his younger brother. “You fucking marry her then.”
“I scare her, good luck getting her to agree to that match.”
Nico doesn’t use his sexuality as an excuse, and I understand why, but it also concerns me. I worry that despite being openly gay he seems to have little desire for romantic human connection. I hope that he doesn’t expect to marry a woman for The Outfit one day. I hope he understands that I would never do that to him—even if he was willing.
I’ll talk to him in private soon, even though he’ll brush me off. It’s times like this that I wish my brother were by my side. Cesar always knew how to get through to Nico, much better than I have ever been able to.
“I’ll marry her,” Apollo cuts into the bickering. Just the sound of his voice uttering those words shuts the whole room up.
“Fucking plot twist,” Armani says, his jaw slack.
“If she picks me, she’ll need to give me an heir,” Apollo points out. “I’m not the best match, but I wouldn’t despise being married to her. The Kings would certainly cower under my leadership, though. That could be useful.”
“If you want to give her a choice, who else do you suggest?” I ask, trying not to sound excited by the prospect of Apollo finally tying the knot. I’d hoped after all this time he might find a love match, but I’ll take anyone for him at this point.
“Definitely not Matteo,” he quips. “Too young, too unserious. The Kings wouldn’t accept him.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I agree with him, but he doesn’t need to be so pleased about insulting his youngest brother.
“Any helpful suggestions?”
“You could volunteer,” he points out, looking unbelievably smug.
It’s impossible not to gape at him. “You want your stepmother to be the same age as your little sister?”
“I think you’re the only one of us who won’t eventually pursue a physical or romantic connection with her and that might be the best thing you can offer the poor girl.”
“Who’s to say she won’t eventually want him?” Armani scoffs. “Let’s face it, the ladies love a DILF.”
“Gesù Cristo, Son,” I hiss. “She’s not even twenty.”
“You’ll be good to her,” Elio says with an air of indifference.
I shouldn’t even consider putting myself on the line. I shouldn’t allow myself to be subjected to another nightmare of a marriage. But if I’d do it for anyone, I would do it for Jade. A political marriage wouldn’t be the end of my world. I could provide for Ana without crossing boundaries, give her a life free of being attached to some other mafioso douchebag who sweeps in for an alliance.
With a resigned sigh, I scrub a hand down my face. “I’d prefer to be a last resort. Anyone else want to throw their hat in the ring?”
My sons share measured glances, quiet mumbling filling the room.
Until…
“You can give her my name as well.”
The room snaps into startled silence.
I don’t think a single one of us expected that offer.
A rough sound leaves my throat, clearing it before I shake out of my shock. “Well, first things first. We need to inform her about her mother.”
