by Meghan March
“I don’t fucking trust you any further than I could throw your fat ass, Rossetti,” I holler at him. “So send her over, and when she crosses the middle, I’ll come to you.”
Giancarlo shoves Cynthia forward. As the woman stumbles toward us, gaining speed with each step, Randi’s hand appears with a flash of metal. Thoughts fly through my brain with rapid-fire speed.
Fuck. She’s got a gun.
Maybe we misjudged her, and she’s the one who’s going to snipe Cynthia before she can get to safety.
We didn’t plan for that, and I don’t think anyone else sees her piece.
Shit.
I charge forward, catching everyone off guard, and even though I can’t see them, I know every hand is reaching for a gun. I plow into Cynthia and tackle her, and we go down as bullets start flying. One grazes my ear as I drag her with me, heading for refuge behind a concrete pillar. But before I get there, something burns across my arm.
“Police! Everyone lower your weapons,” a voice calls over a bullhorn as cruisers with flashing lights roar into the garage.
“You motherfucking, double-crossing—” Giancarlo levels the barrel of his gun on Dom’s chest, but not before Benny’s aim finds its mark and the man’s head explodes.
As GTR lifts his weapon to fire on the cops, Randi presses the muzzle of her gun to his temple.
“Not so fast, you fucking asshole. You’re under arrest for murder, along with being a giant fucking piece of shit masquerading as human, and for having a tiny dick and not knowing how to use it. You have the right to remain silent . . .”
As Randi begins her colorful recitation of GTR’s Miranda rights, Cole rushes forward, and cops and Feds swarm both the Rossetti party and the Cassos. Benny is handcuffed, and Dom is too.
Memphis jumps out of the SUV and rushes toward me and Cynthia. “Oh my God, you got hit! We need an ambulance! Someone get an ambulance!”
“It’s just a scratch, baby.”
“Don’t tell me it’s just a scratch!” Memphis wraps both arms around me and holds on tight.
Cynthia stares at us in shock. “I want to go home. I’m never coming to New York again.”
“I’m glad you’re okay, Mom.”
Cynthia bursts into tears, and Memphis tries to calm her while Cole walks over to me.
“That’s not exactly how this was supposed to go.”
“One dead and one wounded. I think it went just fine.”
He glances from me to Dom, who stares at Giancarlo’s body and his brains splattered on the concrete.
“I’m done with this life.” My father grunts, tugging at his handcuffs. “It’s time to fucking retire.”
“You can retire in prison, Dom,” Cole tells him.
My old man laughs. “Haven’t you heard? I’m Teflon. Nothing sticks to me.”
Epilogue
Cannon
Six months later
Benny passed peacefully in his sleep four months after the shootout with the Rossettis, and we gave him a wake that would have made him happy as hell. The entire family toasted his life and his death at Andre’s, all wearing Hawaiian shirts in his honor.
Before he died, Benny and Memphis turned his journal of a manuscript into a book, and with Dom’s blessing, he published it. Benny told us to make sure we added author to his epitaph. Every single person who came to the wake received a copy, and given how things are going with the book’s sales, there’s a damn good chance we’ll be adding bestselling author to his epitaph instead.
Even though Cole got his arrest with Dom, he didn’t get his conviction. Once again, Dom walked free. Cole was pissed for a second, but it didn’t last long since he got his big promotion with GTR’s conviction. The entire Rossetti organization fell apart, and its pieces were gobbled up by the other crime families.
Randi got a promotion too, and she’s now a bona fide detective. She even assisted in reversing the official report on Leander Lockwood’s death. Now the world knows the truth about Memphis’s father, and justice has been served. After the insurance policy paid out, Memphis donated it to start a scholarship to journalism school in her father’s name.
Dom, true to his word, officially retired shortly after he was released from police custody. He handed me the reins and told me to do whatever I thought was right. Then he seduced the nurse, Judith Maria Hansen, bought a place in Boca, and convinced her to run away with him.
Cynthia went to rehab, terrified that the Rossettis were able to so easily grab her because she was hammered at the bar of the Plaza. She and Memphis are taking it slow with their new relationship. Even though they don’t share blood, they share a bond that they’re carefully rebuilding.
Teal graduated from rehab as well, and she and Grice are now in a happy, committed relationship. Tanya has never been happier either, since she has taken over a large portion of my management role at the club like she was meant for it.
I stand in the brownstone in Hell’s Kitchen, consulting with a design team as we create a brand-new vision for the building Dom gifted me—affordable housing for single mothers, complete with a day-care facility that’s included in the cost of rent. “I owe it to you, but also to your mother. Do something with it that she’d like.” We’re still working out the details, but Creighton is consulting on the project with me. As a matter of fact—
I glance down to check my watch. We’re going to be late for dinner with him and Holly if we don’t get moving soon.
I thank the team and go find Memphis in the library, the one room that won’t be altered because she made the request. She got her DNA test, and she is indeed Alessandra Rossetti, but she’s decided she won’t ever use the name. Memphis was given to her by Leander, in honor of his hometown, and for that reason, she’ll use it forever. With one change, though—she’s not going to be a Lockwood much longer. Soon, she’ll be Memphis Freeman, my wife.
I stand in the doorway, watching her work, hunched over a laptop at a wide wooden table she’s turned into her desk. She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing that I don’t want to break her concentration, so I take a step back. A creaking floorboard gives me away, though, and her head pops up. When she sees me, she slaps a hand over her chest like I almost gave her a heart attack.
“Holy hell, Danger. Sometimes I forget how quietly you can move.”
“Lifetime of practice,” I tell her with a laugh. “I was going to let you keep working, but . . .”
She checks the clock on her computer and shoots up from her seat. “Oh shit. It’s time to go, isn’t it? And you were going to let me keep working and make us both late?”
“When you’re in the zone, I’m not going to be the man to pull you out.”
A flash of sadness flits across her face before she says, “I just got through a tough part, so I’m ready.”
Memphis writes true crime now, having given up being an on-air reporter for good, but her investigative spirit is still fully engaged. Her first book untangles the story behind the murder of Regina Rossetti. It’s been hard on Memphis, but she’s determined to get the truth out there for everyone to know, because her mother deserves the honor.
I hold out my hand. “Then let’s go.”
“Have you set a wedding date yet?” Holly asks Memphis, checking out her ring once more.
I proposed three weeks ago, over Italian food and wine. Well, not actually over. I snagged an extra-small pizza box from Geno, filled it with notes with just a few dozen of the reasons I’m madly in love with her, and settled the ring on them. When Memphis opened it, her aqua eyes shimmered with tears. Then I read her every single note before finally popping the official question. Thankfully for me, she said yes instantly.
Memphis glances at me. “Not yet. We’re still talking about what we want to do.”
“Knowing Cannon, he’ll try to talk you into running away and doing the deed somewhere in secret,” Creighton says, like he lives in my damn head. The man still knows me better than anyone.
Memphis t
ries to hide her smile because she and I have been debating whether we want to do it up traditionally, or if we want to keep it small and intimate. As in just the two of us on a remote beach somewhere.
“But if they do that, we won’t be able to be there,” Holly says, her mouth forming a small moue.
I shoot her a look. “I didn’t get to come to your wedding.”
As Creighton’s laugh booms in the restaurant, Holly narrows her eyes. “Different situation, Cannon, and you know it.”
“If you’re looking for somewhere exotic,” Creighton says, “we’ve got friends in Ibiza. The Forges own an island.”
“Or you could do it in New Orleans!” Holly’s face brightens with a look of pure glee. “Eden has a whole crew of friends, and it would be awesome! You could do the parade through the French Quarter and everything.”
Through it all, Memphis is quiet, a small smile on her face as she toys with the ring that’s been newly added to the fourth finger of her left hand. When I suggested catching a flight next week to the South Pacific and getting married, just the two of us, her eyes lit up with excitement. I know what my girl wants. Even if it’s not traditional, it’s perfect for us.
Memphis’s gaze lifts to mine, and I see that same anticipation on her face now as she speaks. “We’ll let you both know when we decide. Promise.”
After dinner is finished, and the women have hugged and said their good-byes and we’ve helped them into my Bentley and Creighton’s new Rolls Royce Cullinan, my brother and I stand on the sidewalk facing each other.
“You’re not getting married in Ibiza or New Orleans, are you?” Creighton asks me.
“Not if you let me borrow one of your jets next week.”
Creighton shakes his head at me. “You would fucking do that.”
I shrug, but a smile tugs at one corner of my mouth. “I’m doing whatever the fuck she wants for a wedding. Dom’s in Florida. You and Holly are heading back to Tennessee. Cav and Greer are in LA. Eden’s in New Orleans—”
“And you don’t want to wait to make Memphis yours,” Creighton says with a crooked grin of his own. “I get it. I really fucking do. If that’s what you want, I’ll make sure there’s a long-haul jet fueled up and waiting on the tarmac at Teterboro when you need it.”
“I appreciate that, brother. Because I’m not waiting any longer. I’m ready. She’s the one. No need to wait and plan all the stuff. I just want to go do it and make her mine.”
“Then that’s what you’ll do. I’m fucking happy for you, Cannon. Really damn happy. You deserve it. But you better believe that we’re throwing you a hell of a reception when we can get the whole family together after you get back. It’s happening.”
“Fair enough.”
He holds out his hand and I take it, leaning in to give him a back-slapping hug. Having Creighton back in my life means the world to me. It’s like regaining a missing limb.
As we separate, I notice a man walking up the sidewalk toward us in jeans, a dark hoodie pulled up over his head and obscuring his face. I reach for the piece tucked into my waistband, but he hits the pool of light cast by the streetlight just behind my Bentley and lifts his head, revealing a familiar face.
“I ain’t gonna jump you. Not when I’ve been hoping like hell I’d run into you both. And now here you both are, like fate put me in your way,” Gabriel Legend says, pushing back his hood.
Creighton puts himself between Legend and the Cullinan—just like me, always moving to protect his woman first.
“What the hell do you want, Legend?” I ask the man as he shoves one hand in his pocket. The other looks like the knuckles are busted, and he flexes it as if he just walked away from a fight.
His shakes his wild mane of hair free from where it’s caught in his hood and lifts his chin. “Got a business proposition for you. Opening a new club.”
Like the underground club he owns where Teal got in trouble, I’ll bet.
“Casso family is clean. We’re not interested,” I tell him.
Creighton stays silent, as if answering is beneath him because it’s ridiculous to expect he’d give money to the street fighter turned illegal club owner.
“No. Not a dirty club,” Legend says, shaking his head. “A high-class one that’ll attract every celebrity in town, especially the ones who can’t get into your damn cigar bar.”
“You’re going legit? I don’t buy it,” Creighton says, his tone rife with skepticism.
Legend lifts his chin at me. “Cassos did it. Shouldn’t be so hard to believe.”
“Sounds like a bad investment to me,” my brother says, pushing back at Legend.
“What if I’m willing to pay you back at double the market rate?”
I gotta give the guy credit. He’s asking the right people. If he could get our money behind his club, he’d have no problem attracting more investors.
“You that sure it’ll succeed?” I ask him.
“Yeah. Fuck yeah, I am. I’m doing this, with or without investors. I got a plan, and it’s not gonna fail.”
Knowing what I do about clubs in this city, I should disagree with him. But he already runs what I understand is one of the most profitable underground enterprises in the city. Although going legit is a different proposition altogether, some part of me is still intrigued.
“Ask me again after I get back from my wedding in a few weeks,” I tell him, stepping toward the back door of the Bentley.
“Might not need your money by then. You don’t want to miss out on Urban Legend.”
“Apropos. I just hope you don’t end up as one,” Creighton says and then nods at me. “I’ll talk to you later, brother. Congratulations.”
Legend lifts his chin at both of us before tugging his hood back over his wild hair. “You’ll see. Both of you. Just wait.”
He continues down the sidewalk, his stride long and rangy, and his posture forbidding enough that no one would dare try to jump him. I don’t know his story, but I have a feeling it’s a dark and gritty one.
Pushing any more thoughts of Gabriel Legend out of my mind, I slide into the back of the Bentley and wrap my arm around Memphis.
She curls into my side. “Who was that?”
“No one important. The real question is . . . how long do you think it’ll take you to find a dress?” I press a kiss to the crown of her head.
She turns her face to look up at me. “Are we really doing this? Like, soon?”
“As soon as you’re ready, baby. Just say the word.”
A grin spreads over her face. “This is New York. I can be packed and ready to go in forty-eight hours.”
I cup her cheek with my hand. “Perfect. Then let’s go make you Mrs. Freeman.”
Memphis
Two days later, we climb out of the SUV next to the jet on the tarmac, and nerves flutter in my stomach like butterflies. We’re eloping. We’re really, really doing it.
But that’s not why I’m nervous.
Warren opens the door and I climb out, waiting for Cannon. He takes my hand and threads our fingers together.
“You ready for this, baby?”
I simply nod because I’m afraid if I speak, my voice will crack and he’ll know something’s up.
Warren unloads our luggage, and the crew meets him on the black-and-white Karas International rug that leads us up to the stairs. By the time our luggage is swiftly stowed and my feet touch the KI logo, I’m about to burst with the secret I’ve been keeping.
Please, please be happy I did this.
Cannon gestures for me to go ahead of him up the stairs, and I give the flight attendant a quick smile. Her grin is huge.
I slip by her into the cabin . . . and spin around so I can see Cannon’s face when he realizes what I’ve done.
His expression is everything when he sees the jet packed with his family—Dom and his new lady love, Creighton and Holly, Cav and Greer, and Eden and Bishop.
Complete shock.
Absolute awe.
; Overwhelming happiness.
He drops his gaze to me. “How? Who?”
“Creighton and I did it,” I say as tears fill my eyes. “I hope you—”
Before I can finish, Cannon sweeps me up into his arms and crushes his mouth to mine. Everyone erupts with cheers and claps and laughter.
When he finally sets me down, his hazel eyes glisten. “I love you so fucking much, baby. Thank you. Now this is perfect.” He scans over my shoulder once more, taking in all the people who love him, before squeezing me tighter against his side.
“I hope you’re all ready for some fun and sun, because we’re going to get married!”
* * *
THE END
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Curious about some of the other characters who appeared in the Dirty Mafia Duet? You can find Creighton and Holly in the Dirty Billionaire Trilogy, Cav and Greer in the Dirty Girl Duet, Logan and Banner in the Real Good Duet, and Bishop and Eden in Beneath These Shadows. You don’t want to miss out on their stories!
Keep reading because I've included an extra special surprise for you—a first look at my newest deliciously dangerous alpha, Gabriel Legend, in The Fall of Legend.
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About The Fall of Legend
From New York Times bestselling author Meghan March comes a new deliciously dangerous alpha hero in The Fall of Legend, the first book in the brand new and utterly addictive Legend trilogy.
