“I want to talk to Franco,” I say in what I hope is a tone that is not to be fucked with. “Now.”

  The suited stranger scowls but turns around and yells through the swinging door, “Yo, pops. The little pole-dancing princess is here.”

  I clamp down on my tongue before I can snap back some snide reply about his choice of nickname for me. Already, I can feel the bartender’s eyes glued to me in a way that has my nerves dancing on edge. Message delivered, the suit stalks toward me. His open suit jacket moves as he walks, and I glimpse a pistol tucked at his hip.

  My body tenses as he gets closer, but I keep my chin high, refusing to let him see me squirm.

  “You got some fucking nerve, walking in here like you’re some prodigal coming home,” he says to me.

  “I’m here because I was kidnapped by the Diavolo family,” I say.

  His brows lift. “You trying to tell me you escaped Vincenzo Diavolo?”

  “Yes.”

  He snorts. “Bullshit.” He glances back at the bartender. “It’s a fucking trap. Post up at all exits and call for backup.”

  The bartender sets the glass and rag aside and pulls out a phone then promptly starts texting. So much for Grey’s exit strategy. Before walking in here, I was convinced I wouldn’t need his help, but now I’m not so sure.

  The suited stranger turns back to me, but his next words are cut off by another man stepping through the swinging doors. His hair is gray, and his dress shirt is wrinkled and coming untucked. A gold watch gleams from his wrist, and a thick gold chain wraps around his neck, sparkling beneath the restaurant lights. He looks more suited to car sales than running a mafia, but I’ve heard enough about what he’s capable of not to underestimate him just yet. Besides, it’s his sharp eyes that strike me now—they don’t miss a thing.

  “What is it, Dom?” he says as he strides toward us. His expression changes at the sight of me, though it’s not exactly friendly. More like cold and closed off. “Well—well, what do we have? A special visitor.”

  I glance pointedly at the suited asshole—Dom, apparently. He doesn’t move. “I’d hoped we could speak alone.”

  “You can say anything you have to say in front of Dom.”

  I ignore the smug look Dom tosses my way and focus instead on the older man, who is supposedly my grandfather.

  “You’re Franco Giovanni?” I ask.

  “I am. How can I help you?”

  I flinch. “I’m Lexi—”

  “I know who you are.”

  “Then you know why I’m here.”

  “Actually, I have no idea why you’ve turned up on my doorstep.”

  “I was across the street for contract negotiations, and I escaped.”

  “Is that what he told you to say?”

  My hands flutter at that. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His brows lift. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “I’m not—”

  “My informants tell me you are betrothed to my enemy. Willingly. Do you not realize that makes you my enemy now too?”

  “I never agreed to the marriage,” I say. “It was forced on me. Vincenzo Diavolo plans to attack you. He’s trying to use me in his war against you, but I refused.”

  “Is that so?” He looks me up and down, clearly unconvinced. “What exactly do you expect me to do about it?”

  My temper sparks at that, and my eyes narrow. “I don’t know. Maybe something more decent than having my parents killed and washing your hands of your only granddaughter.”

  His eyes flash at that, but I keep going, too pissed to care what he thinks. “Or maybe I expected you to actually give a shit about me. To take me in when I had no one else instead of letting me grow up in shitty foster homes where I had to fight to survive.”

  His voice is hard and cold as he says, “Why would I take in someone who is nothing to me?”

  My eyes widen, and despite what everyone has tried to tell me about this man, I can’t help but feel shocked at his callous disregard. “I’m your granddaughter.”

  “You are your mother’s daughter, that’s clear to see.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Tell me, can you access your wolf, or are you still merely a human weakling?”

  “What do you know about my wolf?” I demand.

  “I know you can’t shift,” he says, sniffing like he finds the idea of it below him.

  “And that’s somehow my fault?”

  “No, your mother’s the one whose genes are to blame for this error.”

  “How do you know?” I ask. “Was she not a wolf too?”

  “She was. But her line wasn’t proven.”

  “Proven?”

  His expression tightens with impatience, but his voice remains the same even tone as before. If not for the hatred in his eyes, I would think him devoid of any feeling at all. “The Giovanni family line is filled with nothing but powerful alphas. This failure had to be hers.”

  Frustration and impatience bubble up in me. “Who cares? You’re treating me like I’m somehow the bad guy in all this when it’s your turf war that dragged me down here in the first place. All I ever wanted was a family, but if this is what it’s like to be related to you, I don’t want any part of it. You and your little suited soldiers can all go to hell.”

  When I’m done, the room is completely silent. I know going off on him has only made him more likely to toss me out again, but I can’t bring myself to grovel, either. Not after meeting him face to face and witnessing for myself his lack of remorse or caring about what he did to me or to his own child.

  A noise outside cuts through the silence, and Franco’s gaze whips toward the door.

  “Boss,” Dom says.

  “Put her in the storage cellar,” Franco says dismissively.

  Panic spears through me. “What?”

  Dom comes forward, but I shrink back before he can grab me.

  “I came here to join you willingly,” I tell Franco. “Not to become your prisoner.”

  “You clearly know nothing about our way of life,” Franco says. “You can’t simply walk in off the street and join an organization like ours.”

  “I’m your blood,” I snap, “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “Why do you think you’re still breathing?” he shoots back.

  Dom grabs my arms and starts pulling me toward the back of the restaurant. I struggle, glaring at Franco, who’s already turned his back on me and is headed for the back door too.

  “You’re just as bad as Vincenzo,” I scream.

  “Actually,” Dom whispers in my ear, his tone gleefully cruel, “we’re way fucking worse.”

  “You can’t just lock me up,” I protest, fear snaking down my spine as Dom drags me toward the swinging doors where Franco just disappeared.

  He’s way stronger than me, which means the fact that we’re going this slow is his choice. He probably enjoys dragging it out.

  “Oh, I plan to do a hell of a lot more than lock you up,” Dom murmurs. “By the time we’re done, Vincenzo and his little bitch son will know better than to fuck with us.”

  18

  GREY

  The first explosion is a doozy. The force of it demolishes the asphalt road and concrete sidewalk and sends chunks of each hurtling in every direction. Car alarms sound, and screams ring out. It’s fucking chaos. Razor rigged it that way on my orders, but still—I wince at the damage done to the corner of the block thanks to the explosives that have just decimated everything in its radius. The moment the ground stops moving beneath my feet, I launch myself out of the alcove where I’d tucked myself and race down the alley toward the back door of Altobello’s.

  When the second explosion goes off, this one right out front of the restaurant, I try not to think about casualties. Razor and Crow had explicit orders to clear the area of civilians before setting off their toys. But I have no way of knowing if they were able to do so without alerting Franco’s men to what was coming.

  Now, all I can do is hope no innocent lives got caught in the crosshairs. And get Lexi the fuck out. If I can’t do that, it was all for nothing anyway.

  I’m nearly to the door when tires screech into the alley behind me. A quick glance back reveals a familiar sedan and Dutch’s wild-eyed form behind the wheel.

  He whoops loudly enough that I can hear him over the rev of the engine. It’s his version of a hyped-up battle cry, one he swears will intimidate the enemy even before we reach them. For me, silence is the best weapon, so I keep my mouth shut and my eyes open as I crash through the restaurant’s back door.

  Two strides in, my path is blocked by a scraggly-bearded asshole I know by reputation alone.

  “Bobby Malone,” I pause long enough to say before smashing my fist into his face.

  He rears back but doesn’t go down.

  “Grey Diavolo,” he snarls, spitting out a mix of saliva and blood.

  Straightening, he comes at me with a look of pure murder in his eyes. Get in line, buddy.

  My second punch lands in his ribs, and I’m rewarded with a loud crack as they split beneath my fist. I hit him once more so that he falls unmoving to the floor, then I move farther inside, my senses tuned to any movement. The kitchen door swings open and Franco himself walks through.

  He stops at the sight of me, surprised into a moment of stillness. Then, he blinks and comes to his senses, skirting me as he pulls a gun from his waistband.

  “Diavolo!” His eyes widen. “This goes against the rules of engagement, you cocksucker. I’ll have your balls for this!”

  He fires off a wild shot that I easily duck, and then he’s gone, disappearing through a side door that I’ve heard leads to a series of escape tunnels.

  I let him go, but I’m aware that every second I don’t chase him down and rip his throat out is another failure in the eyes of my father.

  The kitchen door swings open again, and I see Lexi being dragged in by Dominic Albero, Franco’s second-in-command. Not only is he reputed to be a deadly bastard in his own right, but the prick’s known for hurting women and enjoying it. Seeing Lexi caught in his grasp, I’ve never wanted to kill him more.

  At the sight of me, Dominic snarls and adjusts his hold on Lexi, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her in front of him like a shield.

  Fucking coward.

  “Grey Diavolo, you comin’ to rescue your damsel?” Dominic taunts.

  “Let her go, and I’ll do the same to you,” I tell him.

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then, I’ll kill you. And I’ll enjoy every fucking second of it.”

  He laughs like this whole thing is a fucking game to him. “I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

  I don’t bother replying with words.

  Shoving forward, I drop into a slide and sweep his legs out from under him. He loosens his grip on Lexi but not enough to keep her from going down with him. I throw my body between them, shoving him down long enough for her to scramble away.

  “Dutch has a car out back,” I tell her, gritting my teeth as I battle with Dom for the upper hand. I’m not stupid enough to think he’s an easy mark like Bobby was. If he gets me on my ass, I’m done.

  “What about you?” she asks, hesitating.

  Her presence is a distraction, and Dom manages to land a sucker punch to my jaw that has me seeing stars. Another punch lands and then another. I stumble, nearly losing my balance.

  Dom steps closer and shoves me down easily.

  “Go!” I roar at her and then give all my attention to putting this fucker out.

  Scrapping on the kitchen floor like a couple of teens isn’t my best work, but I can’t let him get anywhere near Lexi. She moves out of my line of sight, and I can only hope she listened to me and ran for the car. But so far, no tires have squealed to signal their departure.

  Fuck.

  We’ve got seconds left—a minute if we’re lucky—until Franco’s backup arrives. I’m no match for all his boys.

  Something clangs behind me, my head turning out of reflex. Dom’s hand snakes past my defenses and curls around my throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off my air.

  I shove at him, angling his head up and away so that his neck is pulled taut. Something moves beside me, and I don’t have time to react before a cast iron pan smashes into Dom’s exposed temple.

  He goes slack, completely out.

  I look up at Lexi, who’s breathing hard and dangling the pan from her hands.

  “Thanks,” I tell her.

  She nods, eyes wide, and I jump up, taking the pan away from her and setting it aside.

  “We need to go,” I tell her, pulling her out the back door and into the backseat of Dutch’s waiting car.

  I land with Lexi beneath me on the seat. Dutch hits the gas before the door is fully closed behind us. I peel myself off Lexi and sit up, pulling her with me.

  “Are you hurt?” I ask as Dutch speeds out of the alley and into traffic.

  “No,” she says, but I’m too intent on seeing for myself to pay her words any mind.

  Grabbing her face in my hands, I pull her close and scan her body. Her hair is a tangled mess, and her eyes are wide, but she’s otherwise unharmed from what I can see.

  Something inside me unfurls.

  I exhale.

  “You’re hurt,” she accuses, and I’m about to disagree when she reaches up and gently presses her fingers to my cheek. The pain has me hissing and pulling away. “Sorry.” She drops her hand.

  “It’s fine,” I tell her.

  “Uh, guys.” Dutch slows the car. “We’re actually not fine.”

  I look ahead to see a barricade of black SUVs blocking the road across all four lanes.

  “Fuck,” I mutter.

  “Is that Franco’s people?” Lexi asks, and the wobble in her voice has me grabbing her and tucking her against me without a second thought.

  I look over at her, my wolf raging at the sight of them threatening Lexi. “I’m not letting a single one of them touch you ever again,” I tell her, aware my wolf is speaking for himself right now.

  Lexi doesn’t answer, and I yank my gaze from hers, focusing on breathing to get a grip on myself.

  Dutch eyes me through the mirror. “Thoughts?”

  His tone is casual as he keeps his foot on the gas and the car aimed straight for the barricade.

  “Take the alley toward the bridge,” I tell him.

  “He’ll have backup along Magnolia,” Dutch warns me.

  “So do we.” With my free hand, I slide my phone out of my pocket and dial Razor.

  “Yeah, boss.”

  Fuck. Of course he’d call me that right now. Dutch probably put him up to it. Acknowledging that title is all the squad needs to officially back me, but I can’t let that happen.

  “We’re taking Magnolia,” I tell him.

  “We’re ready for you.”

  “Casualties?” I ask, tensing at the answer.

  “None that we counted,” he says, and I exhale, relaxing.

  “Good work,” I tell him. “We’re headed your way in about thirty seconds.”

  “We can’t wait to party,” he tosses back, and then we both end the call.

  “He’s ready,” I tell Dutch.

  “Hold onto your titties,” Dutch says, gripping the wheel as we speed closer and closer to the parked SUVs. “Because here we go!”

  He hoots as he makes a hard left at the last possible second. Still, a few bullets fly and land against our bumper, and Lexi squeaks. I wrap her tightly against me and hold us both upright as Dutch makes a series of jerky turns that sends us whipping through alleyways and out into oncoming traffic a few blocks away.

  The other drivers honk wildly as Dutch jerks the wheel left and right to keep from crashing head-first into the moving vehicles. Speeding parallel to us on the correct side of the road is another black SUV, but it doesn’t get far before Razor appears and uses his bumper to shove it up onto the sidewalk. The SUV crashes into a fire hydrant, and water shoots up like a geyser, raining down behind us in thick droplets.

  “Woo!” Dutch cries.

  I shake my head at my friend and remain silent as we speed along. Dutch is the best driver I know. Best fighter too, but today, his skills behind the wheel are more important.

  “Still headed for the river?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I tell him.

  “Let’s do it.” Dutch makes another turn, putting us on a side road with less traffic and, more importantly, no more of Franco’s SUVs on our tail.

  “We made it,” I tell Lexi when I know the coast is clear.

  I start to ease away from her, suddenly very aware that I’m close enough to smell the scent of shampoo in her hair. But she grabs my arms and presses them around her.

  “Don’t let go,” she whispers quickly. “Not yet.”

  I do as she asks, reminding myself I’m merely a warm body. She’s not trying to hold onto me personally. She’s looking for anyone who will protect her from the danger. Before I can stop it, I wonder what it would be like to be the one she wanted. Not for what I can do for her but for who I am.

  My body heats against hers, but I shove aside the need that comes with it. Now’s not the time. And Lexi’s not the girl.

  We drive on, leaving the city behind and the violence along with it. Realistically, I know the only reason we escaped was because we had the element of surprise on our side. Never, in the history of our families feuding, has anyone brought the fight to Franco’s doorstep. It’s understood between the factions that there must be a boundary around the sanctity of “home.”

  Today, I broke that rule. And not for just anyone either. For her.

  There’ll be hell to pay for it later, but even so, I don’t regret it for a second. Not if it means Lexi’s safe. Why that matters to me more than the exact sort of street war I’ve been trying to prevent for decades is a question I’m not quite ready to answer just yet. But I’ll have to face it soon. I won’t have a choice when my father finds out what I’ve done—and who I did it for.

  19

  LEXI