Fallen Royal (Mafia Royals 4)

How did it come to this?

Was I just afraid?

Selfish?

Stupid?

To think that a simple little concoction would make it easy to work for her dad, easy to kill, easy to use it as an excuse to do the one thing I was born and bred to do.

It did.

It was easier to blame the drug for why I was able to be so lethal in killing Claire and everyone else in the Baratta Family, the same Family King is literally walking toward.

He has to know they’re dangerous.

And they hate our power.

Hell, we still don’t know when they actually poisoned me.

“Did she suffer?” Jetro, the boss of the Baratta’s laughed. Blood caked his mouth. “When we lit the fire and left our warnings. Or how about when we added tiny little bombs to the white stuffed horses we mailed to all the second-generation kids of all the bosses? Did you feel powerless? Do you feel powerless now?”

I kicked him in the jaw, sending him flying against the ground. I’d brought Dom with me just in case… because I’d been losing chunks of time.

“Don’t kill him,” I said. “I want him to suffer, to watch his entire empire collapse under the arm of the Sinacores.” I lit a match and smirked. “You like fire? Then enjoy your Family burning.” I dropped it on the ground and walked away, knowing full well that he didn’t have the resources to come after us.

I remember it.

Then realize that I’m actually remembering one of my blackouts, and I haven’t re-read the journals in weeks.

I swallow. My throat feels thick.

I stare up at Izzy. “Kiss me then.”

“Wh-what?”

“You’re here to say goodbye. I at least deserve a kiss.”

She’s tentative as she walks toward me, her Nike sneakers squeaking against the cement floor, and I feel ready to black out. Instead, I fight it, I fight it hard, I strain against the ropes.

It’s happening, and I can’t stop it.

Fuck.

I have zero control.

I have nothing left.

Except for Izzy.

I focus on her face.

And everything suddenly goes black.

Chapter Twenty-One

“But the temptation of a discovery so singular and profound at last overcame the suggestions of alarm.” —Robert Louis Stevenson

Izzy

He relaxed against the ropes. His head lifted, and I knew: Maksim was in there, but he wasn’t an active part of the conversation.

This man staring at me looked ready to eat me alive and spit me out, then do it all over again. His smile was predatory, his skin feverish. “Well? What about my kiss?”

My hands shook behind my back, and I clasped them together. “Who am I talking to?”

“Who do you think?” His smile was still sexy, still present, confident as he eyed me up and down like he would devour me whole if given the chance.

I took a deep breath. “I think I’m still talking to Maksim.”

“You are,” he said simply.

“But I think there’s something… not quite right.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed. “But that’s what happens when your brain tries to segment things. I fucking love science. Science makes the world spin, don’t you think? Did you know that in order to protect itself, the human brain will actually create scenarios, so you don’t have nervous breakdowns? Fascinating, that in order to live your truth—you have to lie to everyone, including yourself.”

A frown formed, tugging at my brow. “What do you mean?”

“I’m both,” he said it like it was simple. “I’m Maks—I’m Sim. I know it; he knows it. He just refuses to accept it because then all that fucking blood is on his head. And what’s worse…” He leaned forward as much as his restraints would allow. “The joy he had in taking all those lives. The problem isn’t the blackouts; the problem is that you can only suppress your true nature and lie to the world for so long. Eventually, the monster breaks free… and eventually, you have to decide if you’ll kill it for good… or join it.”

A tear slid down my cheek. “Maksim isn’t a monster.”

“I know that. You know that.” He shrugged. “Does he know that?”

“I don’t know what to do.” I choked on a sob.

“Maybe…” He locked eyes with me. “You do.”

“What?”

“Say goodbye.”

“I can’t!”

“Kiss me,” he demanded.

“I can’t.”

“I’m Maksim,” he said again in a clear voice.

My feet walked toward him. What the hell was I doing? I kept walking until I was right in front of him until tears streamed down my cheeks.

Until he looked up at me with trust and terror, until I sat on his lap resting my thighs against his while he looked down at me, still bound.

“Izzy!” Dad called from the door. “Get the hell away.”

“Go,” Maksim said in a hollow voice. “I’ll let you know when you’re welcome back again.”

“Maks—”

“Go, Dad!” I yelled. “Just go.”

“Izzy!”

“Trust me,” I said in a shaky voice.

He was quiet, and then he backed out and the door shut behind him. I wanted to ask what next. Instead, I stared Maksim down, really looked at him.