I had a buddy on the police force, a fan of Kelan the movie star. I’d always had suspicions the detective was bought and paid for by my father, but we’d never had an inappropriate conversation. Shane had been somewhat forthcoming in details regarding the murder. The hit had been swift, gunfire coming from an open window of a black Caddy. Spineless fuckers.

  I’d gotten the basic information over a cold couple of beers and shots of tequila in the middle of a strip club, his favorite location to unwind. The police were unnerved, fearful of more blood spilled. They certainly had looked the other way dozens of times, but blood in the streets was difficult for them to justify without a full investigation.

  I should be indulging in champagne versus wallowing in self-pity as well as fury. I loved my father, had once even worshipped him, but the adoration had become tainted. Still, the news had been more than disconcerting. I had no idea how deep Vincenzo was in with his family, although I suspected he knew much more than the press had ever mentioned. Everyone had secrets.

  As another limo pulled up, I kept the plastic smile covering my face. The press was looking for any sign of weakness, a scandal that would give them their fifteen minutes of fame. While connections to my family had been made after my first blockbuster had hit the silver screen, that was old news.

  For now.

  If what my father had told me held any merit, there would be a juicy exposé somewhere down the road. Maybe Ricardo was right. I couldn’t run. I remained exactly where I was as the limo as the door was opened, the gorgeous blonde lifting her gown as she exited, already waving to the overjoyed crowd.

  The screaming continued, everyone awaiting the beautiful fantasy couple, our stories fulfilling their desires. I huffed at the thought. I could barely tolerate Trudy, her princess attitude in need of harsh discipline. She was the epitome of a true prima donna, but Vincenzo had insisted that she was the only actress for the job.

  “Don’t look now but our star is approaching.”

  Vincenzo and I had sparred far too many times and tonight I was in no mood for his bullshit. I’d known about his background but hadn’t held it against him any more than he had with me. We simply couldn’t tolerate each other. Some would say bad blood.

  I wasn’t going to let on I was aware of his father’s upcoming betrayal. Acknowledging that wasn’t going to do me any good and could tip the enemy. Yeah, I’d learned everything there was to know about living within a closely protected family, a prisoner in expensive housing. My mother had felt the same, merely a trinket on my father’s arm, the gorgeous movie star trophy my father had targeted and won.

  My birth had been much the same. He’d expected several more children. Her body refused to comply. My father had taken out his disappointment on his only son.

  “After tonight, we don’t have to see each other again, Vincenzo. Trust me, I don’t want to waste time with a worthless director.” I kept my tone as emotionless as possible as I studied his eyes. If he was aware of what his father was planning, the arrogant ass was hiding it well.

  “You’re going to honor every single press conference and appearance, or I will discredit you,” Vincenzo hissed under his breath.

  I shifted in order to face him, shaking my head. “Threats now, Vincenzo? That’s interesting coming from you.” The tension was high. I noticed he’d clenched his fist as if ready to throw a punch. That would certainly make headlines. He was also searching to see what I knew. He seemed to forget that I was a damn good actor.

  “Promises, my friend,” Vincenzo hissed.

  “Hey. Hold on here, fellas.” My agent approached, swearing under his breath. As soon as he was within a few inches, he glared from one to the other. “We’re in front of about two hundred reporters. Do you two really want to go at it like you’re five-year-olds?” Drake Collier was always the voice of reason.

  I narrowed my eyes, waiting for Vincenzo to back down. The confrontation was overt, even for him. My hackles were raised, my instinct telling me he was smack in the middle of the possible takeover.

  “Besides,” Drake continued, “you have an urgent phone call, Kelan.”

  “I don’t want to be interrupted. Take a damn message,” I snapped, more because of the glib expression on Vincenzo’s face.

  Drake grabbed my arm, tugging me away from the round of bravado. “You’re going to want to take this. They couldn’t get ahold of you, so they tracked me down.” The urgency in his voice was palpable.

  I’d purposely left my phone turned off, longing for one fucking night of enjoyment. I yanked the phone out of his hand, loathing interruptions. The noise behind me was deafening. I walked away but the applause seemed to follow me. “Yes?”

  “Is this...” The man’s voice was garbled.

  “Kelan! Kelan!”

  The screaming continued, forcing me to head closer to the building.

  “What did you say? Speak louder.”

  “Is this Michael Cappalini?”

  I almost ended the call. “Who exactly is this? You have two seconds before I’m hanging up.”

  “This is Dr. Wallace Tucker of the University Hospital. I’m sorry to inform you that your father has been in an... accident.”

  I’d heard those exact words before, said with the same hesitation the day that my mother had been brutally murdered. There was no sense of time as his words continued to echo in my ears. As if in slow motion, I tipped my head in Vincenzo’s direction, locking eyes.

  War had just begun.

  Chapter Two

  Kelan

  “You sure ya wanna do this in here?” Grinder’s gruff voice remained grating.

  I shifted my gaze toward him, eyeing the hulking man. There was anger and even suspicions in his eyes, as if he believed I had something to do with the assassination attempt.

  I’d assigned another man for my father’s protection, knowing I’d need Grinder’s assistance in other ways. My decision hadn’t settled well with him. However, there were certain requirements within crime families, unwritten rules that would be followed by every capo and soldier alike. Whether I liked it or not, I was now in charge. The men didn’t have to like or respect me, but they would follow orders. Keeping the Cosa Nostra safe had become the primary objective. Hell, I had indeed remembered everything my father had taught me.

  “I’m certain. I don’t want any attention drawn to the fact I’m involved. Do you understand?”

  Grinder shifted back and forth from foot to foot, the same damn cold eyes. “Yes, boss.”

  I also needed his protection. I was no fool and he was bred for this kind of position. Heavily armed, there was nothing getting by the man. While I loathed the fact he as well as many of the others had already taken to calling me the boss, I didn’t bother correcting him. The entire organization needed to feel some level of comfort.

  “You swept the place?” I asked casually, remaining perched against the floor-to-ceiling window and staring out at the rippling water. The young woman my father had hired to maintain the pool had worked diligently during the morning, making certain everything was pristine. She’d undoubtedly faced my father’s wrath at one time or another.

  “Yeah, boss, three times today alone. Ain’t nobody gettin’ close to you. Your father would have my ass.”

  I checked my watch and sighed. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since my father’s near execution. He’d been rushed into a twelve-hour surgery and now remained in intensive care. His prognosis wasn’t great. “Then send them in when they arrive.” I was risking having a meeting of this level of importance at my father’s house, but the only people I was close to were supposed to be my enemies. The concept was ironic.

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  “Oh, and Grinder, make certain we have plenty of booze.”

  He lifted his eyebrows, surprised at my request then simply nodded. I wasn’t planning on sitting by my father’s bedside. The next twenty-four hours were vital in exacting revenge in an appropriate manner. As far as a crystal clear plan? Fuck if I knew.

  “I’ll do that, boss.” Grinder hesitated, as if ready to offer advice but lumbered away instead. The man was a true enforcer, his nickname well suited. He’d been an MMA fighter before coming to work for the Cappalini organization. Even with his continued dislike, I knew I could trust him, which was vital at this point.

  All I’d have to do was issue a single mandate and the war would begin, but I was much more cautious than my father. I was also behind the eight ball with regard to knowing all the ropes. Sure, I knew enough, my father drilling certain aspects into my head whether or not I gave a damn to listen. That had started as early as kindergarten. As a kid trying to fit in, having a beefy armed soldier everywhere I went certainly created a lot of questions.

  I took a sip of the same scotch I’d had only the day before, wincing as the liquid burned, making my throat raw, fueling my increasing rage. I swirled the liquor, concentrating on the sound of ice clinking in the bottom. I’d pushed my father away so hard during the last four years that I was numb to the fact he was tethered to a hospital bed, perhaps dying from his injuries.

  Then all hell would break loose.

  I heard a rap on the door and stiffened, still half expecting to see an officer of the law. They’d already grilled me standing outside the hallway where my father was having surgery. The lead detective was damn lucky he’d made it out of there without a broken jaw. I’d thought about complaining but figured certain ‘friends’ of my father’s would eventually intervene. Fortunately, the press hadn’t been alerted yet, allowing me to slip away without being seen. Everything was far too precarious.

  “Kelan.”

  Dominick Lugiano’s face was stoic, his usual dancing dark eyes piercing. I took comfort in his deep baritone, a man I was closer to than any of the others. His father was the boss of the New York syndicate, another ruthless man with no conscience. Dominick had followed into his father’s footsteps, ready to take the helm the second the throne was relinquished. He didn’t share my hatred of the crime syndicate.

  “Dominick. I’m glad you came.” I moved toward him, my arms outstretched.

  “You certainly know how to call a meeting, buddy.” Dominick pulled me into a hug, slapping his hands against my back. “How’s your father?”

  “Tough old bird. He’ll live.” Although I had my doubts. The initial hit had obviously been meant to take out my father as well. They simply came back to finish the job. I took a step back, holding up my drink.

  “The two hits were careless. Sloppy.”

  “To a point,” I replied, the anger still flowing. “Scotch?”

  “Yeah, what the hell. Shitty ass flight.” Dominick walked closer, scanning my father’s office. “Nice digs.” He headed toward the oversized window, admiring the view. “Very nice digs.”

  I snorted as I poured him a drink. “Not sure that new wife of yours would appreciate it.” I handed him the drink, giving him a watchful eye.

  “I can look. I’m still a red-blooded carnal male.” Laughing, he held up his drink. “I forgot. That’s your nickname.”

  I rolled my eyes as two of the others walked in. Lorenzo Francesco, son of the Chicago Don and Miguel Garcia, firstborn son of the Miami Cartel. Only Aleksei Petrov remained absent. He was true Bratva, his immigrant father having secured the Philadelphia syndicate with brutal force, more barbarians than well respected mafia. Aleksei was no different. We all agreed the man had no soul.

  We’d formed an alliance years before, a secret we’d all sworn to keep. We provided aid in certain measures to each other, eliminating our enemies. I had one that was going to require finesse to eradicate. Their help could prove vital, even necessary. The bastard from Italy wouldn’t know what hit him. After all, we were the sons of darkness.

  “Damn, brother. LA is good for your tan,” Miguel teased as he sauntered into the room, dancing as if I had music playing.

  “Yeah, well, that’s what I get paid to do,” I said absently.

  “You’re not your father, that’s for sure,” Lorenzo huffed, walking immediately toward the bar. “Whoa, baby. Would you look at that set of knockers.” He adjusted his crotch as he leered out the window.

  I rubbed my eyes. Lorenzo was a man I respected but could barely stomach. “She’s not to be touched.”

  “Same old Kelan. Or should we call you boss, now?” Lorenzo snarled.

  “That’s enough shit, Lorenzo,” Dominick chastised. “We’re here for a reason. Any rumblings of a war?”

  “Only from my lips,” I said without conviction. I knew what was expected of me.

  “How’s your father?” Miguel asked.

  “Touch and go.”

  “Who the hell was responsible for this shit? It’s all over the news. Might as well help you move in and take care of this prick while we’re here.” Lorenzo guzzled his drink.

  “Louis Saltori, cousin to Don Dante Massimo. Don Dante is without a doubt the most brutal monster I have ever come into contact with. You can bet he has more on his hit list, including you, movie star. Saltori is just his bitch, but from what I understand, he’s been gunning for a territory for years.” Aleksei stormed into the room, taking swaggering steps, his long blond hair flowing from the force of his gait. He approached, glancing from one to the other, the rather surprised looks. “I do my homework. I listen. I learn. You, my friend, have a big problem on your hands. Now, I need a drink. You Americans do not understand the meaning of a decent flight or customer service.”

  I bristled hearing the words, but the confirmation was well timed.

  Dominick chuckled, waving his hand at me as he walked toward the bar. “Our Russian friend is right. About Louis Saltori anyway. Talked to Pops. He mentioned he’d heard some rumblings of a possible takeover two months ago. He just didn’t know where. Now we do.”

  I was definitely on the target list or at least would be soon enough. Let the bastards try to gun me down.

  “Takeover? That shit hasn’t happened for years. Wasn’t Saltori working with your father?” Miguel asked.

  There were few secrets it seemed.

  “He was. Now, he wants his own piece of the pie,” I stated, hearing the exhaustion in my voice.

  “He should be eliminated immediately.” Miguel’s world was simple, much like the Russians’. Kill or be killed.

  “Not sure what the fuck I can do. From what my father’s capos have told me, there’s no proof that Louis was involved. No offense, Aleksei, but no one has stepped up to the plate taking credit. If Louis is anything like his son, he would have no trouble gloating about the near kill. What we do know is that the hit was clean, executed with knowledge with a single intended target. My father. The two capos were simply baggage.”

  “Your capos,” Aleksei said with no emotion. When I turned in his direction, he shrugged. “They’re your soldiers now. You need to direct them. You’re in charge and this is an obvious vendetta situation. Whether you believe my information or not, you need to act quickly.”

  Sighing, I moved toward the bar to refill my drink. I planned on getting stinking drunk tonight. Screw the rest of the shit.

  “How can we help? You need a plan and fast. If this Saltori is involved, he won’t sit back on his laurels. If you’ve found the bastards who gunned down your father, we can start there.” Lorenzo stated the words with the kind of conviction that I needed.

  “I don’t want any additional bloodshed.” I realized my hand was shaking as I attempted to pour the drink, beads of the expensive liquor sloshing out over the rim.

  “An eye for an eye, Kelan.” Aleksei grabbed his own glass, pouring a hefty amount of vodka. “Besides, you can’t control a turf war without retaliating. You can’t show weakness in any regard. If you believe Saltori is involved, take him out today.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not programmed that way.” I knew I had to take a strong stand, hitting back hard in order to keep my father’s various businesses going. I just didn’t have the stomach for his brand of brutality. Aleksei seemed miffed. Why I’d joined the alliance I had no idea, maybe to stay informed from a distance.

  Aleksei spouted off something in Russian, no doubt condemning me to hell.

  “There might be another way initially to take control, but ultimately you’re going to have to make a dramatic statement,” Dominick suggested.

  I glanced in his direction, amused at the way his eyes had regained their twinkle. He was by far the most cunning of the others. “Should I ask?”

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Take a look. Did some searching on the plane when you mentioned the Massimo name.”

  I hesitated before reaching out, easing my drink to the bar counter before opening it. The beautiful woman staring at me in the photograph immediately stirred my cock. She was breathtaking with huge luscious brown eyes and glossy black hair, her pursed mouth meant for hours of passion. I could just imagine her lips wrapped around my throbbing shaft. “Do I know her?” I passed off the picture to the others.

  “Francesca Alessandro. She’s the only daughter of Antonio Alessandro, a true princess.” Dominick kept his grin as he answered.

  “That means what exactly?” I asked the question in an offhanded manner. I knew of the Alessandro family: very powerful and vindictive in their particular manners of business.

  Aleksei whistled. “A beautiful woman and very wealthy. Or I should say, she will be extremely wealthy on the day she weds. She’s set to inherit over five hundred million dollars, or so I’ve heard. She is special to Antonio. He would kill anyone who dared touch her without his consent. Yet the man is willing to sell her off to a pig.”

  “You seem to know quite a bit about Italian families,” Miguel taunted.

  Snarling, Aleksei flashed a look of anger. “If you spent more time learning about your enemies then your family’s wealth would be much greater.”

  “Calm the fuck down,” Dominick hissed. “This could affect all of us if not handled carefully. What’s to stop the Massimos from trying to acquire a larger piece of the pie, including New York or Philadelphia?”