Broken Crown (Mafia Royals 5)

Her eyes have dark circles under them, and while I can’t see Roman, I know he’s close.

“You have a choice,” I whisper.

“Okay.”

Footsteps sound, and then I feel him standing next to me, guarding us like he’s always supposed to be.

Doing his job.

“I’ll send you away,” I start. “I’ll send you off with him, with Roman if that’s what you want. I’ll send you away. You’ll always have the support of the Families. You’ll always have us, but you can’t ever come back.”

A tear slides down her cheek. “Why are you saying this?”

“Because I’m about to go down a road I can’t come back from, and that means you either have to walk with me or I go at it alone. Nobody gave me a choice in this, of what I was born into. I’m giving you what I never had. You have until the end of the night to choose.” I kiss the top of her forehead and walk away, feeling like my heart’s breaking all over again as I leave her in the hallway with my enemy, my brother, my friend.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. THAT is why I am your king.” —Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Del

I stand there, numb, not knowing what to do, and yet knowing all along that this was the path I would eventually take. A tear slides down my cheek as I hear Roman curse next to me.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he finally says. I see his hand extend, and I grab it as he leads me through the house in a blur of tears. I imagine the life I would have with him and how incredibly different it would be from the life I have now.

We walk past other men—guards.

We walk into the garden, and I look up at the tree that King’s parents inscribed their initials into, along with the rest of the bosses. They made a pact that day to stay together, through thick or thin, blood, loss.

Roman brings me underneath it.

The last time I was here was when King was proposing, the time before that was when I was here for some family dinner, and King was grumpy about Maksim playing a prank on him. I laughed a lot. Actually, I laughed a lot when I was here when I saw this tree.

I remember the day he showed me his parents’ initials.

“That’s what I want,” he said, his fingers going over the inscription. “I want that sort of love.”

Our Families had been at odds for the last few months, so I felt the need to ask more; after all, my identity or last name wasn’t always so clear with the rest of them. And it’s not like we actually had time to sit down and have a chat about the past.

“What kind of love?” I ask.

“This.” He laughs; his eyes meet mine. “The sort of love that’s so important you want to inscribe initials in a tree so until the tree’s gone—even past that, people remember your love.”

“Does it even exist?” I reach out and touch the names Tex and Mo with my fingertips; the wood is smooth, the feeling almost holy. “That sort of love?”

“Hell yeah, it does.” He laughs. “Every single one of my family members has it. I want it. I want it sometimes more than the crown they want to put on my head.”

“You would take love over power?” I ask, dumbfounded.

He gave me a funny look. “Wouldn’t you?”

“It would have to be a big love, King. A huge love. An inexplicable love.”

He nodded and dropped his hand. “It would. It really would.”

I’m brought back to the present as Roman drops my hand and leans against that same tree. His eyes are sad, and yet not. It’s a weird look, one I’ve never really seen on his face before.

I glance to my right and see Tiffany walk around the corner, watching, doing her job, still confused on how she got hired as she looks down at her phone, then stomps her foot and literally starts filming what looks like a TikTok video.

Roman laughs and rolls his eyes. “I know, I know.”

“Glad I’m not the only confused one.”

He shrugs. “She’s uh, done a lot of favors.”

I scrunch up my nose.

“So that’s what I need to tell you.” Roman paces in front of me, exhales, and puts his hands behind his head. “Remember when I found out you were going to get married, and we broke up, and I got pissed?”

“How could I forget? You almost wrecked the SUV.”

“It was a squirrel.”

“Sure, okay, last time it was an armadillo.”

“It was huge.”

“We live in Chicago.”

“Whatever, the point is…” He smiles and grabs my hands in his. They don’t feel the same, I don’t feel as protected, and they don’t feel warm now—his hands. I frown down at them and wait for whatever he needs to say. Maybe he’s about to give me a pep talk? Who knows? “I slept with her.”