A wave of relief washes over the others, and even I can't help but feel a sense of anticipation for what lies ahead. I’m still the new girl, trying to understand the intricacies of this world, but I don’t miss how Grey’s resolve strengthens before my eyes. A reluctant hero taking his place in a world he never wanted—but a world that needs him nonetheless.

  The others push to their feet, crowding in to high-five Grey, and I rise too but only so I can slip away. The weight of their words lingers in my mind as I head down to the riverbank. I’m still too new to this life to fully understand what it is they’ve just committed to, but I know it has to do with taking on both Franco Giovanni and Vincenzo Diavolo—two mafia leaders instead of just the one. Which means this journey has only just begun, and I'm about to witness something extraordinary—Grey, the reluctant mafia prince, stepping up to embrace his destiny and take back his kingdom. And I can’t shake the feeling that he’s doing it for me.

  20

  GREY

  Ramsey and Razor celebrate with more shots. Crow and Dutch drift off to plan a supply run despite me insisting we aren’t doing this with violence if we can help it. Mia remains behind, quietly contemplating—like I knew she would. That girl never says everything she’s thinking. It’s one of the things that makes her a formidable foe—and a valuable ally. She’s so much more than people give her credit for; I’m finding that most women usually are. And when she turns that strategic brain on me, it fucking scares me more than I want to admit. The look in her eye has me bracing for whatever she says next.

  “He knows what you did to Trucker,” she says when we’re alone.

  “How do you know?” I ask, hoping she’s wrong. But Mia never is.

  “I just do.”

  “Will he use it?”

  Stupid question. I already know he will. It’s what I would do if I were in his shoes. Not that I’d ever be in his shoes.

  She shrugs. “When it suits him.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter, glancing past her to where Lexi sits by the water. The moment I see her, every doubt I have vanishes. I lied to them before. I’m not just doing this for them or even for the people of this city. I’m doing it for her, which makes me the biggest kind of idiot.

  There’s never been anyone more forbidden or more off-limits for me than Lexi Giovanni. There’s never been anyone less worthy of going against my father over. Hell, I left town for five years rather than pick sides against him, and less than three days back in town, with Lexi by my side, I’ve just declared war on the man.

  For her.

  My wolf wants her, and my cock craves her. It’s two against one.

  I’m so fucked.

  “She’s not what I expected,” Mia comments, and I whip my gaze back to hers, searching for some clue about what she means. Or what I’ve given away from my silent brooding.

  “She’s not like us,” I tell her.

  “You hate her for it.”

  I start to argue and stop. Hate is good. Hate is safe. I need to hate her more—for both our sakes. But Mia isn’t letting it go.

  “She doesn’t deserve it, you know.”

  “What?”

  “Your hate. She didn’t ask for any of this.”

  “Neither did we.”

  “No, but we’re here, playing the game. Willingly.” She looks at me. “Most of us,” she adds wryly.

  “Don’t start.”

  “I’m not mad at you for leaving,” she says, and I arch my brow so she knows I see through her bullshit. “Fine. Not anymore,” she amends. “Your time away seems to have settled you.”

  “It did,” I agree.

  Made me more capable of violence too. I don’t tell her that part, though.

  “We need that calmness now.”

  “You’re calm.”

  “Nah, I’m like the eye of a tornado. Besides, Lexi would have never fallen for me like she did for your pretty face. It had to be you.”

  “You’re saying I’m only in charge because of my face?”

  “Absolutely not. You also have that whole brooding, sad vibe that makes girls want to save you.”

  “I knew I never should have come back here,” I grumble.

  “You had to repay that favor you owed,” she reminds me, all teasing gone. And even though we both already know it’s true, it helps to hear her say it—that I did the right thing by coming back when he called me.

  “We’re even now,” I tell her quietly.

  She nods. “You owe him nothing,” she agrees, quoting me from earlier. “But what do you owe her?”

  I glare at her. “I hate when you use logic against me.”

  She smiles. “I know.”

  I stare at Lexi again, knowing full well what Mia is talking about. She deserves better, but more than anything, she deserves a choice.

  It’s the right thing to do. But it’s also terrifying because, if she doesn’t choose me, I’ll lose her forever. I’ll gladly fight a war against Franco and my father, but I don’t think I can take it if she doesn’t choose me.

  If I were her, I wouldn’t choose me.

  Not after everything I’ve done to her.

  But if I meant my own words before, then I have to start putting the needs of the people above my own. Starting now, apparently.

  “I’ll be inside,” Mia says, rising and squeezing my shoulder on her way into the house.

  I wait until she’s gone before heading for the riverbank. They’re probably going to be all glued to the fucking window, but at least, if they’re inside, I can pretend we have some privacy.

  Lexi looks up as I approach.

  She doesn’t stand, so I take a seat in the grass beside her, careful not to get too close. Even so, she pulls her knees into her chest and wraps her arms around them in a protective stance. I can sense how nervous she gets around me, and I can’t blame her, nor have I done much to counter it before now.

  Fuck, this is awkward. Being a grumpy kidnapper was way easier than actually being nice.

  After a minute, I look over, and she glances at me uncertainly.

  “Is this the part where you tell me you’ll kill me if I talk?” she asks.

  “What?”

  “You let me sit in on a meeting where you all planned a coup against your father and a war against Franco. I’m a threat to you now. I know too much.”

  I sigh. “I let you sit in because you deserve to know what I plan to do to Franco. He is your family.”

  “No,” she says, looking out over the water. “He’s not.”

  I nod. “You’re right. He’s never been there for you. In fact, he’s a monster. They all are. Franco, my father—everyone in charge. All they care about is obtaining more power, and they don’t care who they hurt to get it. It’s why we’re planning to stop them. And I think you want that too.”

  She looks back at me.

  “I don’t want any of this,” she says. “I just want to go home.”

  “I can’t do that,” I say, guilt pressing on my chest. “If I take you back, someone else will come for you. And they won’t—”

  “Won’t what?” she asks when I pause. “Be this nice to me?”

  She snorts, and I don’t bother defending myself.

  “They won’t find you useful if you’re alive,” I tell her quietly. “And they won’t hesitate to hurt your friends to get to you, either.”

  Her head whips to mine. She looks like she wants to argue, but then she sighs. “What the hell do you want from me?”

  “Marry me.”

  Her eyes widen. “What?”

  “Or pretend to marry me,” I amend. “Like my father asked. Go along with the engagement so that our families look united.”

  “But you said you’re going to—”

  “Stopping my father will take time. And I’m going to do my best to find a way to do it without violence, which means remaining compliant for as long as possible. And earning the support of both sides of this fight.”

  “How does a fake marriage help that exactly?”

  “My father’s supporters don’t trust me. I’ve been gone too long. I need to win them back, and love stories tend to do that.” I look away as I say the words, my gut twisting with each one.

  “And Franco’s people?” she asks.

  I blow out a breath, relieved she’s not calling me out on the L-word. “Even if he disowns you, you are his rightful heir, and there’s nothing he can do about that. Your alliance with me—”

  “Makes you the next alpha of his line,” she finishes.

  This time, I do meet her eyes, and the words fall out of my mouth way too easily as I say, “Or our children.”

  “Oh.” She looks away but not before I see a flush creeping into her cheeks.

  My wolf stirs, and I fight the urge to reach over and kiss every square inch of her blushing skin.

  She’s so fucking beautiful, even now when I can tell she’s weighing her life in her hands. And I hate that I’m putting her through it at all, but I don’t know another way to save her anymore.

  At least, I’m giving her a choice.

  “There’s another option,” I say, hating the words as I speak them.

  “What is it?” she asks, hope leaping into her gaze.

  “I’m friends with the Black Moon Pack.”

  “The Black Moon Pack?”

  “It’s a pack of wolves located in a small town called Blackstone, Virginia. Levi and his mate Mac are the alphas.”

  “I thought there could only be one alpha of a pack.”

  I smile ruefully as I remember my time living and fighting alongside Levi Wild and his pack of Romantics, as they called themselves. For a few years, we hid out at a compound we created, helping other shifters escape the ruthless control of an alpha who punished them for choosing their true mates rather than rejecting them as a show of strength.

  I learned so much from Levi and am damn grateful for my time with him. But the more time I spend with Lexi here in Indigo Hills, the less I can see myself going back there. Still, she’d be safe with them. And that’s what matters.

  “So did everyone else for way too damn long,” I tell her. “Times are finally changing, though. In fact, they’re the second pair of alpha mates running their own pack now.” At her curious expression I add, “Those are both stories for another day. Anyway, I spent some time with Levi before he became alpha. He’s a good friend, and I know he’d protect you with his life.”

  “What are you saying?” she asks.

  “You could go to them. They would take you in. Hide you. Keep you safe. You wouldn’t have to be a part of this.”

  “How long would I have to stay there?”

  “Until I’m successful.”

  “And if you aren’t?”

  I swallow against the lump in my throat and say, “Then you’d stay forever.”

  Her silence stretches, and fear grips me as I wait to see if she’ll choose me or her freedom. Hiding won’t be nearly as bad as it sounds. She’d have a life there, a good one. Maybe even discover her wolf. And then she’d be free to mate—

  “I don’t want to spend my life in hiding.”

  Her words rip me from the nightmare unfolding in my head.

  “You aren’t safe otherwise,” I tell her.

  “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

  Alarm shoots through me—a hot streak of jealousy that stabs my insides to the point of pain. But then I remember. The girl. Violet. Another dancer at the club. They were friends.

  “You’re worried about Violet,” I say.

  She looks surprised. “How did you know about her? Oh.” Her expression shutters. “Right. You stalked me.”

  I start to answer, but she cuts me off.

  “Violet’s not the only one I miss.”

  The jealousy stabs at me again. “Who else is there?”

  “There’s a shelter for runaway teens not far from the club. I spend a lot of time there. Spent,” she corrects.

  I frown, wondering how I missed that detail. “I didn’t know.”

  She glances at me then back at the water. “Yeah, well, I missed a few days of visits leading up to…well, you.”

  “Why?” I ask, genuinely curious about her life. It’s not something we’ve talked about, and I realize now that’s my fault. I assumed I knew her just from watching her for two days and letting her grind herself against me once.

  I’m an asshole.

  “I know what it’s like to be alone in the world,” she says. “And I think it’s important to be there for the kids who had it like me or even worse.”

  I stare at her, struck by how simple she makes it sound. Once upon a time, I felt that way too. Until dealing with my father overshadowed my compassion, and I ran. Just like one of those kids in the shelter.

  “And you miss them?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make it sound so pathetic. I don’t have a squad of friends who have my back, okay?”

  “It’s not pathetic,” I tell her. “I think it’s incredible.”

  She looks back at me, her gaze softening. When she bites her lip, I track the movement, wishing I could scrape my teeth along that exact spot. My senses pick up on her heart rate beginning to increase. My cock stirs.

  “I was going to stay with him,” she blurts, and I blink, realizing her thoughts are nowhere near the direction of my own.

  Her heart continues to pound, and I realize it’s from nerves, not lust.

  Fuck, get it together, dude.

  “With who?” I ask.

  “Franco. At the meeting. I was going to choose his side and stay with him.”

  I nearly smile at that. This is what she’s nervous about?

  “I know,” I tell her.

  She sits back, surprised. “You did?”

  I shrug. “It’s what I would have done. And it wasn’t a terrible plan—well, if Franco had been a decent guy, anyway.”

  “Yeah,” she agrees. “Too bad he’s a prick.”

  I snort. “Too bad.”

  She looks at me again, and my smile vanishes at the look she gives me. Her heart has calmed, but there’s a sadness in her eyes that pulls at me. For the first time since taking her out of her life, I feel like an asshole for not understanding what she lost.

  “I guess I’m in,” she says.

  “What?” My guilt swirls with Mia’s words echoing from earlier: This girl doesn’t deserve my hate. The problem is I never hated her at all.

  “I’ll marry you,” she says, and my wolf is way too fucking thrilled to hear those words. “Or pretend to.” She waves a hand. “You know what I mean. But I’m making another condition.”

  “What is it?” I ask, trying to hide the fact that I’ll agree to just about anything to make her choose me.

  “When this is all over, I get to go home.”

  I hesitate, and she narrows her eyes.

  “If I help you become the leader of this city, that means Franco and your dad won’t have any power anymore,” she points out. “And that means no one will want to use me as a bargaining chip. We can pretend to get divorced or something. Come up with some story. I want your word.”

  I nod, ignoring the pain in my chest at the idea of her walking away from me. “If I win this war, you’ll be safe to go home.”

  She sticks her hand out. “Deal.”

  I shake her hand, my body heavy with the feeling that I’ve somehow promised away the only thing that will matter to me in the end.

  21

  LEXI

  It strikes me as I draw my hand out of Grey’s that I’m now officially here as a willing participant. Well, not willing, exactly. I’m only here because I can’t go home. But I’ve agreed to be more than a puppet, and that changes everything.

  Or, at least, it feels like it’s changed me. When did I go from loathing him to enjoying the way his large, warm hand feels in mine? Suddenly, nothing makes sense anymore, and I have the distinct urge to redefine where we stand.

  “Grey,” I begin, but he stops me.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I… sure, I guess.”

  “Come inside with me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re part of the squad now.”

  I look back at him, more confused than ever. Just because we’re allies doesn’t mean we’re friends… right?

  “What?” he asks when I don’t answer.

  “I don’t know. You’re being nice to me. It’s weird.”

  His lips quirk. “Just trying to keep you on your toes. I’m going to see if Crow managed to cook us up something. Will you come?”

  He stands and holds out a hand.

  I take it warily and let him pull me to my feet. My skin tingles where he touches me, offering a jolt of lust and something else I can’t name. I realize my body has made a fast leap from friends to wanting to pick up where we left off with that lap dance.

  Not happening, I tell myself.

  Allies is one thing.

  But wanting more than that—wanting him—is a disaster waiting to happen. He’s my kidnapper, for fuck’s sake. And the future mafia boss of Indigo Hills if all goes well.

  I cannot be falling for the bad guy to end all bad guys.

  Absolutely fucking not.

  When his hand lingers in mine, I don’t pull away first.

  Inside, Crow has made scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits. Everyone else is nearly done, but there’s plenty of food left. I want to ask if they’re expecting an army or if Crow always makes this much, but that would mean getting a word in edgewise. At Grey’s insistence, I slide in and make a plate while their conversation swirls around me.

  “Crow, you’re killing me with this shit,” Ramsey says around a mouthful of buttered biscuit. “Just open a restaurant already.”

  “Seriously,” Razor says. “He’s the best cook in this fucking city.”

  “Hey, my mom—” Ramsey begins.

  “Yeah, your mom,” Dutch says and throws a balled-up paper towel that hits Ramsey’s cheek. “No one does it better than her.”

  “Ohhh,” Razor says, laughing, as Ramsey stalks over and attempts to shove the paper towel into Dutch’s mouth.