prologue
“You haveto get the fuck out of here. There’s no other way to spin it. There is a fucking fox in this hen house, Sebastian. I will not watch them pluck away your feathers one by one until you’re dead. We will find out who is behind this fucking treachery, but you have to go somewhere you can lie low.” Matteo, my second in command and most trusted confidant, says.
“I hear you, but this is my empire. It is mine to rule, Teo. Mine to defend, and mine to watch crumble if that’s what is to come.” I reply.
“I understand, but you can’t do any of that if you’re fucking dead, Bash!” He barks back at me, using the nickname he’s called me since we were children.
Teo is the only person in this world who speaks to me with so much familiarity and gets away with it. Even my own mother, God rest her soul, spoke to me with a formality you don’t usually hear between mother and son. Then again, she knew from the moment she saw two pink lines, she was bringing the heir to Fortuna Nera into this world. Not her child, but the future head of The Family.
“I will not tuck my tail between my legs and run like a scared dog just because of a few death threats, Matteo. I’m not a fucking child.” I tell him, throwing the papers he brought me across my desk.
The humidity in Florida is suffocating. Of all my business hubs around the world, this is my least favorite. I fucking hate the sand and the fake, spray-tanned women. I miss my home. Italy is where my soul belongs, and it’s been far too long since I’ve set foot on my home soil. As much as my mother wanted me to love Spain the way her family has for generations, I never truly felt comfortable there. I have always felt as though the devil was chasing me, and I could never truly be at peace. But in Italy, my mind finds solace.
I scroll through my phone until I find the contact I’m looking for, Beckett Hayes. Together with his associates, he has been looking into who the mole in Fortuna Nera could be. As much as I trust Teo with the very air I breathe, one can never be too careful in this line of work. It’s gone by many names over the years.
Mafia. Mob. Gangsters. The Family.
To me, I just call it what it is. Business.
“Mr. Hayes, I’m getting a little impatient with this cat-and-mouse game. I know you and Mr. Negan have been working to find the holes in my operation, but my patience has run out. I need names.” I demand, leaving the phone on speakerphone as I throw a few bundles of cash to Matteo and he shoves them into a duffel bag.
He tells me the information he has for me could implode my organization. As if I didn’t already know that.
Fuck.
Matteo is right. I need to leave Florida, there’s no other choice. Alarms ring out on the exterior of the club, drawing Matteo’s attention away from my phone call.
“Seb, get the fuck out of here NOW!” He whisper shouts, dialing the helicopter pilot who is always on standby on the roof.
Beckett’s voice comes through my phone in the middle of the chaos rising around me.
“Seb, can you meet me at my house this weekend? I think I might have an idea.” He asks.
“Of course, I can be there in less than forty-eight hours.” I reply, pulling my pistols from my shoulder holsters and making sure they both have a round in the chamber before I hang up, sliding my phone into my pocket.
I’m too fucking old for this shit. When my father took control of this organization at only twenty-two, he ruled with little opposition. No one dared to speak out against his commands. Those brave enough to try met the end of a .45 with no mercy. I thought by thirty-nine, I would have a tight grip on my reign over Fortuna Nera the same way he did. I do not show leniency. I do not allow excuses. You pay for mistakes in blood under my rule. But there have always been those who believed I should never have been given the helm. My father may have been born and raised Italian, but my mother was the Spanish mistake he was never supposed to have made. He was already promised to a nice Italian girl from a wealthy allied family. Meeting my mother and having me blew those plans all to shit.
Machine gun fire sounds downstairs and Matteo jumps into action, locking down the office door while barking orders into his cell.
“Go, NOW!” he says, throwing the duffle bag in my direction. I have no choice but to listen to him. If I stay here, we will all die. If I leave, we will have the chance to fight another day.
one
“Isyour friend gonna be here some time today, Helo? Because I really need to get back downstairs. Rory doesn’t actually work for me anymore, ya know.” I ask him, leaning against the small kitchen island, absentmindedly spinning the keys around my finger.
I’ve known Helo for at least half a decade, so I know I can trust his word. But I’m getting sick of waiting for this guy, who supposedly will make a great new tenant.
“Sebastian will be here, Ness. He’s usually very…prompt. Annoyingly so, really. Something must’ve delayed him.” Helo texts furiously on his phone, his brows pinched together.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” I tell him as I push off the counter. “Listen, I’ll be downstairs. He can check things out and let me know if it’s a good fit. You’ve got the contracts already drawn up, right?”
He nods without looking away from his phone screen.
“Cool, come find me when he’s ready to sign.” Dropping the keys on the table next to the front door, I let myself out.
The stairs at the back of the building stop right in front of the back door to Mug Life, the coffee shop I run here in Grovewood, South Carolina. My life here is slow and simple, the way I always imagined it would be. Growing up in the burbs of Miami, I’m accustomed to a constant stream of noise. I’ve gotten used to the serenity of Grovewood, and I hope I never have to go back.
At only twenty-four, I never dreamed in a million years I would be where I am. A business owner? Well…kind of. Living on my own, hundreds of miles away from the only family I’ve ever known? Never thought it was even possible. If you ask my mother, it’s the ultimate betrayal. I should be home, taking care of my parents and popping out babies like my older sister has for years and years before me. My baby brother was the only one of us allowed to go wherever his heart or his dick took him. It was supposed to be my turn to enter into thefamily business. If you consider running coke for a drug syndicate and never getting to have any dreams of your own a business.