Shattered Prince

The bikes burned hot. One of them sparked and a small explosion tore into the air as its gas tank exploded. The bikes twisted and fell over in a heap, and I had to dodge behind a car to avoid getting metal fragments embedded in my face.

When I came back out, figures were piling out from the bar.

Two in particular caught my eye. They stood in their leather jackets and thick denim pants staring at their burning motorcycles with open mouths.

I stood and walked forward, gun aimed. “Hey, Demian.”

He looked over. I knew the look in his eye. Shock at first, followed by anger, followed by a sudden realization.

I had him. I had him dead to rights.

He growled, teeth coming together, and he reached for something at his hip.

A gunshot rang out. Iago’s rifle. The bullet ripped into Demian’s friend, tearing a hole in his head big enough to drive a truck through. Screams and panic as people fled in all directions. The gangster dropped into a puddle of his own blood, and the fire from the motorcycles licked at his boots before spreading to his corpse.

Demian didn’t move while his dead friend burned.

“Tell your cousin something for me,” I said, aiming my pistol at Demian’s skull.

“What’s that?” He didn’t flinch, but I saw the fear in his eyes.

“When you see him in hell, tell him he never should’ve moved against Cap and Mal.”

Demian’s eyes went wide as he realized what I was about to do, and he opened his mouth to speak—

I shot him in the face. His skull crumpled, and he dropped.

Blood pooled on the asphalt, and the second motorcycle exploded. I staggered back, ducking out of the way. When the flames died down, I jogged over to the truck. Iago nodded and we climbed inside.

Two corpses and two twisted bikes. It was a good start, but not good enough.

War was coming. And it was a war I couldn’t afford on top of everything else.

If I wanted to walk away from this alive, I had to finish it quickly.

But as Iago drove back to our side of town, something else gnawed at my chest, an understanding and a realization.

Demian wasn’t that much younger than me. He was a puppy in comparison, but still. Life was short, and in my line of business, it was brutally violent.

I’d barely escaped death once. If I was lucky, I’d do it again.

If I was unlucky, I’d end up with a bullet in my head, just like those poor bastards back there.

Here I was worrying about what might happen—

Instead of taking what I wanted.

Chapter 13

Jules

It was late when the elevator doors dinged.

I hadn’t expected Carmine to come home. I was nestled in the living room in front of the fire, despite the late-night humidity. I liked the way the flames danced along the fake log, undulating like little orange and blue snakes. I stared at them, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t manage to get to sleep.

Too many things kept me awake. Memories of the dead. Pain in my leg. Oscar’s threats.

And Carmine himself. Always Carmine.

What was it about him that I couldn’t ignore? No matter how hard I tried, he always came back like a recurring dream or a constant nightmare. He was beautiful, and alluring, and clever, and handsome—but he was dangerous.

He was the kind of man I hated.

Gangster. Criminal. Violent and dangerous. He was building a new crime empire and he was my father’s business associate. Thinking about Carmine at all was a mistake, let alone following up on that one, stupid kiss.

And yet it was all I’d ever wanted.

He stepped into the kitchen and saw me. Usually, he’d just pretend like I wasn’t there—but instead, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey, poured himself a glass, and came over.

“You’re up late.” He sat down, swirling his drink before taking a long sip.

I shrugged a little. He had a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his clothes clung to him like he’d been running through the night. He smelled like smoke and gasoline, and it sent a strange thrill between my legs.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Bad dreams?”

“No dreams yet.”

“Is that because you’re not comfortable here? I’d hoped your new guard would help.” He tilted his head slightly like he was looking for something.

I stared at my lap. “Oscar’s fine.”

“I didn’t ask how he was doing.”

“Yet I told you anyway.” I looked up and glared. “I’m not sure why you care. You pawned me off on my father’s employee so you could go fight your little war.”

“That’s true, but I did it for your protection. If you want me to dismiss him, I will.”

I felt a surge of elation that was quickly tempered by realism. If I allowed Carmine to fire Oscar, then Oscar would only retaliate. I couldn’t afford that, not now, not when I had so much to lose. Going to college and becoming a doctor was everything to me, and I wouldn’t let anything ruin that for me.