I sighed and then jumped on one of the purple chairs. “Party’s over, go home!”
People groaned but slowly shuffled out the door.
The power we held over them was almost ridiculous.
“Let’s go.” I wrapped an arm around Serena as Ash did the same to Claire and Breaker followed, and out we walked as students parted like the freaking Red Sea.
Kings among mortals and into our waiting Escalade.
The drive was quiet.
But Serena couldn’t stop bouncing her knee, so I knew something was up, and when we pulled to the house and saw the bosses standing outside, I knew exactly what was about to happen.
“Don’t let them make you scream,” I said under my breath. “And if you need to pass out, give me the signal, and I’ll do the honors.”
She paled. “What’s the signal?”
I smiled and flipped her off. “What do you think?”
“Of course.” She shoved at me and then. “I’m the first girl to get made.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “Maybe they’ll go easy on you.”
I helped her out of the car and came face to face with my dad, who was currently holding a machete.
Yeah, or maybe not.
Chapter Seven
Serena
My teeth started to chatter as I eyed the giant knife in Phoenix’s hand. The sort of knife meant to cut through hard bamboo. What would it do to a person’s skin? What would it do to me?
And why the hell was he still holding it while we all walked out of the car and toward the front door?
It was just Nixon, Phoenix, and Chase.
So, my father, the insane one, and the angry one.
Perfect.
Breaker took one look at them standing there, held up his hands, and then hopped back in the car., “I’m just gonna head back to my place.”
“Traitor,” Ash mumbled under his breath.
Breaker just rolled down the window and grinned. “I’m the impressionable young one, like the Skywalker to your Kenobi.”
“For the last time, it’s Obi-Wan Kenobi!” Junior shouted back at him.
Breaker paused and then grinned. “These things, I forget, Master Yoda.”
“Son of a bitch.” Ash wiped his hands down his face while I just stood there staring at the guys, wondering if Claire was going to bail on us too.
I didn’t have to wait long to get my answer.
All Uncle Chase had to do was jerk his chin toward the house, and Claire was sprinting past them at breakneck speed with Izzy hot on her heels.
“The three musketeers.” Phoenix shook his head. “The mentors.”
I gulped. Probably not the time to say that my cousin Violet was just as much a mentor as we were.
“And now,” Chase stepped forward. “A dead body.”
My dad’s intense blue eyes narrowed in on me. Why did he have to be so terrifying in that moment? I wanted to run into his arms and tell him to take away the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling that told me that life would never be the same.
That I had taken a soul from this world, and I’d done it on the assumption that the soul, the body who kept it—was evil.
Junior stepped forward. “It was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.”
Phoenix’s eyebrows shot up, and then his gaze went from his son’s to mine. Well, it was nice knowing them.
“Did you kill her?” Phoenix asked.
“She was as good as dead the minute she posed a threat,” Ash casually said, both of them at least had my back.
I tried to even my breathing as Phoenix’s cruel smile landed on me. “Serena…”
The way he said my name was cold, calculated, it was the voice of a killer, the voice of someone that had so much blood on his hands the stains would never wash off.
“Yes,” I rasped, locking eyes with him.
“What’s done is done… it doesn’t matter how or why; you were the one responsible, and you put the entire Family at risk because you acted out of emotion rather than information.”
Junior opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Chase, who held up his hand and slowly walked toward the three of us. My dad followed. Oh man, this was bad, so very bad.
We were their kids.
But that didn’t mean we were above the law of the Family.
I was only too painfully aware of the blood oaths we’d made.
Of the promises never to date each other.
Promises to protect the Family at all costs.
And promises to only kill when absolutely necessary—when there was no other option.
At the time, I didn’t think there was.
I could have waited.
Hesitated.
But my hesitation could have gotten Junior killed.
And admitting that would do one thing.
It would tell them that I had feelings.
It would tell them that Junior made me weak.
And it worked both ways; it would tell them that I made Junior weak.
So I said nothing.
And knew I would have to take whatever punishment they gave with my head high and with my screams on the inside.
Chase sighed. “Everyone inside.”
I started to walk past him, but he grabbed me by the arm and held me in front of him.
My dad looked like he wanted to say something, but Uncle Chase was his second in command, powerful beyond belief. Hell, he had most politicians eating out of the palm of his hand and asking for more. He could give out free poison, and there would be a line a mile long.
I was convinced it was because he was the sort of good looking that made you want to be a victim, and since he was my uncle, I was allowed to say that.
All my life, I’d seen the bosses get open-eyed stares.
Even in their late thirties and early forties, they were like little mafia Jared Leto’s running around with too much testosterone and enough weapons to form their own militia.
God help us all.
Once the front door closed, he leaned in and whispered. “Is it truly over?”
I jerked back. “You mean, is she really dead? Yeah, I think—”
“Not that.” His nostrils flared as his eyes searched mine. “I mean you and Junior.”
I couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped my parted lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You need to learn how to lie better.” He cursed and looked away. “Serena, I need the truth, right now. Are you—” He grabbed me by the shoulder and jerked me closer. “—together.”
“No,” I said honestly. “I think I hate him more than I hate myself right now.”
He let out a rough exhale like he’d been holding his breath. “I don’t need to remind you what would happen if it was discovered that the daughter of an Abandonato was screwing a son of a De Lange—” It was my turn to gasp. “—and Nicolasi boss.”
“That’s not fair, Aunt Luciana is half De Lange,” I pointed out.
“You hate him,” he murmured. “And yet you’re so defensive of a family that nearly destroyed your own father. I wonder why…”
“I like to play fair,” I said through clenched teeth.
He smirked. “That lie was a lot better, favorite niece.”
I scowled. “Say that to Bella’s face.”
“Hey, a little competition’s good for you, right?”
I let myself relax a bit. “Yeah, yeah.”
He wrapped an arm around me. “You took a blood oath when you were sixteen, Serena, all of the kids did. The last thing we need is a group of hormonal rage-fueled college students deciding it would be a good idea to sow their oats under the roof of mob bosses who’ve been known to chop off body parts of men who look at their wives sideways.”
I had nothing to say to that, except, “You’re joking, right?”
“Why the hell else would we have a machete?” He deadpanned like I was the crazy one.
This guy.
&n
bsp; I shook my head. “So, what’s my punishment going to be?”
He opened the front door.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
I suddenly wanted my mom, but then I didn’t want to see the sadness in her eyes for the innocence that I allowed to be taken from me tonight.
Over a guy I supposedly hated.
I risked everything for the hate I had.
If that wasn’t a sick and twisted sort of love—what was?
Chase didn’t answer me; he just led me around the corner to the stairway that led to the dark basement.
Not a good sign.
My room was upstairs.
I slowly took the stairs in my heels, the same ones that held small little needles in the toes that could kill someone—had killed someone—in an instant.
I called them my killer heels for a reason.
A doctor would assume her heart was weak—that it just stopped.
But we knew the truth.
I knew the truth.
I had done that.
I would do it again.
To potentially save the man I hated? I would kill everyone. And I would smile while doing it.
Maybe he wasn’t the one with the sickness in his blood.
Maybe, just maybe, it was me.
The lights overhead flickered on as Chase took me to the end of the hall and finally into the sparring room.
We had a nice boxing ring in the middle and enough gear to make you sweat for days.
Junior and Ash were already standing in the middle of the ring.
My dad and Phoenix were standing outside the ropes.
At least the machete wasn’t in Phoenix’s hands anymore. No, that honor went to Junior.
And when he looked at me, his eyes were empty, like his soul had momentarily taken a vacation from his body—not out of exhaustion but out of necessity for what he had to do.
“Serena.” My dad held out his hand. I took it. “When blood is wasted, you need to be punished. It kills me that you were made before your time, before you really had time to experience life, but that’s what this is, and as the heir to the Abandonato Family, it’s your birthright. As a woman, you’re equal to the men standing before you, which means the punishment has to be the same.”
I whispered, “I understand, sir.”
His blue eyes flickered with emotion before he looked down and ran his hands through his jet-black hair. “Two minutes in the ring with each of them. They won’t go easy on you—”
“They’ve never gone easy on me,” I snapped, earning a proud smirk from my dad.
“What happens down here stays down here, when you walk out of this basement, you’ll be made just like Ash and Junior. Do you understand what that means?”
It meant my life was no longer mine.
But I’d known that from too young of an age.
I gave him a jerky nod and kicked off my shoes, then went over and grabbed a leftover hoody from one of the benches, so I didn’t flash boob at anyone.
With a deep breath, I crossed my arms. “Who wants to get their ass kicked first?”
Ash smirked and held up his fist. “Let’s go, little girl.”
I hopped into the ring.
And trembled when each of the bosses slowly gave me their back because, at the end of the day, they were parents first, bosses second, and their instincts were always to protect, never to harm.
But this wasn’t just their war anymore.
It was ours.
So, I held my head high and blew Ash a kiss. “Let’s see if you’re roundhouse has gotten any better.”
A choked laugh came from Junior as he stepped outside of the ring and watched.
The only rules?
Two minutes, no time outs, no killing, and blood must be shed.
Game. Freaking. On.
Chapter Eight
Junior
I wasn’t allowed to show emotion—so every single time Ash landed a blow to her perfect hateful face, I swear I cried on the inside, mourned the loss of her blemish-free lip, wept over the fact that she would never be the same after this. That the last remaining part of her soul that was still clinging to the dream of a life outside of this—would be crushed—and I would help do it.
I always wondered if Nixon would find an excuse, a way to get her out, and now… now we had no choice because she’d killed—for me. She’d done that for me regardless of what she said with her words, her eyes… her actions, they said it all.
Her words said I hate you, while her soul cried I can’t lose you.
I didn’t know how to digest both realities.
I didn’t know how to protect her and hurt her.
And that’s what I was going to have to do in another thirty seconds.
I gripped the machete.
Only one of us got a weapon.
So, when my dad handed it to me, I had to look excited that I was chosen when I wanted to run to the bathroom and hurl every last drop of vodka in my stomach.
Serena got a good punch in, causing Ash to stumble backward, but he had thirty pounds of muscle on her—both of us did.
We worked out to stay sane.
Where we were hard muscle and grit, she was soft and sexy.
Fuck.
The sound of bone cracking had my fingers turning white from gripping the machete so hard.
Ash had just broken two of her fingers.
She had to fight me with broken fingers.
The timer went off.
Ash handed her a towel then pulled her in for a hug. Blood mixed between them as he kissed her forehead with a bloody mouth and whispered. “Blood in, no out, welcome to the Family.”
“Blood in, no out,” she rasped, landing one more sucker punch to his shoulder that had him grinning, despite the fact that his mouth was bleeding.
At least she had gotten a few good hits in.
Ash left the mat, and it was my turn.
She was allowed to grab a weapon to fight me with, and I wasn’t surprised when she shimmied out of her leather pants far enough to grab a knife that was strapped to her thigh.
She wouldn’t be Serena if she weren’t carrying a knife.
I almost smiled as she struggled to pull her pants back on with her swollen hand,
And then I realized I had to fight her.
For two minutes.
She excelled in hand-to-hand combat.
But against me?
It was a joke.
“Ready spoiled princess?” My voice cracked.
“Yeah, jackass, come at me,” she taunted.
From his spot at the side of the ring, Ash chuckled.
She lunged first. I dodged the knife with ease and got a bit of her flesh as the machete went straight through her hoody. Blood dripped from her side down to the mat.
It was a deep cut.
A machete didn’t make shallow cuts.
I could chop off body parts.
She held her broken fingers to her side and lunged again. This time she caught me on the arm—and I let her.
Then she was kicking my feet out from under me, slamming me into the mat as she leaned over and hissed, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Fighting.” I gritted my teeth.
“No, you’re losing.” She shoved her knife into my right shoulder; it went in at least three inches. “I don’t go easy on you, don’t go easy on me.”
“So, you want to die?” I whispered.
“A problem?” Chase called.
I shoved her off of me. “No.”
“One minute left,” Ash shouted out.
“You want to bleed?” I clenched my jaw. “I’ll make it burn.”
“Bring it!” she yelled.
I went at her with the machete, hitting the back side of her arm before shoving her away, only to come at her again and make a slice down the front of her right thigh, the cut opened wide enough to show muscle.
I’d never hated myself more.
“A
gain!” she screamed.
And then I realized that it was the scream of a girl who was terrified, the scream of a girl who needed to feel, a scream of a girl who was still numb after taking her first life.
So, I gave her what she needed.
I gave her the pain.
I slapped the knife out of her hand, then kicked her in the stomach sending her toppling backward hard enough for me to straddle her on the mat and drive the edge of my machete directly into her left arm, pinning her there, all the way through her skin to the mat, narrowly missing bone.
Her chest heaved as our eyes locked, and then she whispered, “Thank you.”
“Hate you for as long as we both shall live.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Hate you for as long as we both shall live,” she replied and then, “Blood in, no out.”
“Blood in, no out.” I nodded. “Welcome to the Family.”
The bosses turned around in time to see me jerk the machete from her still body.
Nixon was pale as he watched me pick her up in my arms and hand her to Ash.
And together, the three of us walked away from the bosses, bloody and beaten.
Made.
Serena moaned against Ash’s chest as blood dripped from her mouth. The deepest wound was the one I had made in her arm. It was going to hurt like a bitch, but thankfully we had good doctors at the house, and I had known if this was gonna go down tonight, that Sergio would be waiting somewhere upstairs to stitch her back up.
We found him in the kitchen with his med kit; already, he was getting a needle and thread ready.
“Hold her down, please,” he said without even looking up.
Ash placed her on the kitchen table while I pressed down on her arms.
Sergio grabbed alcohol and poured it over her wounds while she screamed, and I felt my heart crack in my chest as he quickly inserted an IV in the back of her hand and started a morphine drip.
She was out in seconds.
I let her go and watched Sergio stitch her up.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but after a bit, Ash said he had to take off, leaving me with the wounded princess.
“How did it go?” Sergio was stitching up the last wound, the most superficial on her side.
I tried to ignore her marred skin, and the fact that it was my fault it looked that way.
“Great,” I said through clenched teeth. “We had tea and swapped boy stories. How the hell do you think it went?”
Ruthless Princess Page 7
