I hear the soft fizz coming from Roman’s beer as he cracks the lid while Marcus continues staring at the screen, watching a reenactment of the Butcher’s final murder. “What the fuck are you watching?” he questions, his lips pulling up in disgust, seeing the shitty documentary special effects and movie editing. I can only imagine the thoughts rushing through his head, complete and utter judgment.
“It’s a serial killer documentary. Some guy they referred to as The Midnight Butcher,” I explain as another photo of the guy appears on the screen.
Marcus’ eyes widen in surprise as Levi laughs behind me. “No fucking way,” he says. “That’s Jake.”
My eyes bug out of my head and I whip around to face Levi. “What do you mean that’s Jake? Do you know this guy?”
“Yeah, of course I do,” he tells me, taking a beer from Roman. “We’re all tight around here. He’s not a bad guy, just misunderstood. You met him at the party we had at the castle. He was watching you all night.”
My eyes get impossibly wider. “WHAT?” I screech, waking Doe. “You invited this guy to your party?”
Marcus shrugs his shoulders, his lips pressed into a hard line. “Why not? We invited heaps of our friends,” he says in a dull tone, something else clearly on his mind. “We had to reel him in a bit. He was watching you a little too hard. If we hadn’t stepped in, he would have made a name for himself all over again.”
I shake my head, still unable to believe it. “No, that’s not right,” I say, specifically remembering the part of the documentary that said the FBI caught the dude and locked him up. “He was arrested two years ago.”
“Yeah,” Roman laughs. “Just like we were arrested last month. The FBI likes to talk themselves up when it counts, but I bet you don’t hear the stories of how they let their targets slip right through their fingers.”
“No shit,” I breathe, refusing to acknowledge Marcus’ comments about what Jake wanted to do to me during the party. I’ve already got the attention of three crazed psychopathic serial killers; I don’t need any more to watch out for. Besides, there’s no guarantee that the next one is going to fall for my charm like these guys have.
Marcus lets out a frustrated sigh and fumes at the TV. “How the hell did Jake get a documentary? I mean … where the fuck is my documentary? I’ve made much more exciting kills than that guy. These are all the same. They’re boring. Now me? I’m a fucking star. I deserve to be on that screen, plus have you ever seen me on camera? I’m photogenic as fuck. That’d be the best goddamn documentary anyone had ever seen.”
A smirk settles across my face, and just as I go to suggest he pay a producer a little visit, Doe’s ears stand high under my hand. I glance down at her as a low growl rumbles through her chest. She shakes off my hand and sits up as Dill makes a similar sound deep in his chest.
A silence sounds through the theater room as Marcus takes the remote out of my hand and shuts off the TV, all three of the boys listening intently. “What is it?” I question, my heart kicking into gear. We’ve already dealt with one intruder at the castle today, I don’t think I can handle another. I need at least a week before I get to call on that darkness inside my soul again.
“Shhhhh,” Roman says, holding up a hand and looking to his brothers. “You hear that?”
I strain to listen as Doe growls again, the rumble making the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall. I hear nothing, but after a short pause, the familiar sound of tires on the driveway breaks through the silence. “Someone’s here,” I gasp, my eyes going wide.
Levi nods and reaches over the couch, taking my hand and forcing me to my feet as the four of us make our way out of the theater room. The wolves race in front of us, Dill doing his best to keep up with Doe. “I can only make out one car,” Levi says, glancing over his shoulder at Roman who nods.
We make our way out to the big foyer when the boys discreetly move in front of the window overlooking the front yard. “Black town car,” Marcus says, standing exactly in the space I’d been in only a week ago when we’d run Giovanni out of here.
“Could be anyone,” Roman says, moving in beside me and pressing a gun into my hand. I take it greedily, but just like every other time I’ve held a gun in my hand, I feel uncomfortable and laughably under prepared despite the few lessons the guys have given me.
I move in beside Marcus and watch the black car coming down the drive. He positions himself in front of me, being his overprotective self. I can’t say that I hate it. After the week I’ve had, a little protection detail won’t go astray.
The car pulls to a stop in front of the big obnoxious water fountain, and the boys wait impatiently, watching as the car door swings open and an expensive set of shoes hits the driveway. The thought trickles through my mind that any threat wouldn’t be stopping in the middle of the drive like this, they’d be hidden away and sneaking onto the property, most likely through the woods out back, the very woods where I was taken by Giovanni. But then again, the majority of this dark world has no idea that Giovanni has been chased out of town. They assume he’s still here sitting up on his throne and shitting all over the people he claims to rule, and while this visitor may not be an enemy of Giovanni’s, it’s very possible that they have a vendetta against his three devilish sons.
A suited man finally appears at the bottom of the drive and Marcus blows out a breath of relief as I notice how similar he looks to Giovanni. “It’s Louis,” Marcus says, glancing over at Roman and Levi who are busy preparing themselves for some kind of shootout.
The boys instantly relax, shoving guns into the waistband of their pants as I glance up at Marcus. “Which one is Louis again?”
“My father’s youngest brother, Ronaldo’s father.”
My brows arch, fear pounding in my chest. “Ronaldo,” I repeat. “The one who Victor killed in retaliation for his son’s murder?” I question, remembering the exact moment Levi shot Antonio’s tongue off and Marcus requested we bring it home in a doggy box for his vast trophy collection. Ronaldo, the boys’ cousin, was set up to take the fall and Antonio’s father was quick to retaliate by taking Ronaldo’s life, effectively setting off a carefully planned out war.
Marcus nods and I let out a shaky breath, glancing back at Roman. “What does he want?”
Roman’s dark, broody eyes are narrowed, deep in thought as he slowly shakes his head. “I’ve got no fucking idea,” he says as their uncle makes his way up the grand stairs. “But we’re about to find out.”
The boys form a wide semi-circle around the front door, covering all their bases as I keep myself carefully placed behind Marcus’ shoulder, protected at all costs.
The door slowly opens and fear pounds through my chest. Louis is a senior member of the DeAngelis family; I don’t doubt that he knows how to protect himself. The boys would have learned everything they know from men like Louis. I refuse to go into this unprotected, even if the likelihood of this turning into something bigger is near zero.
Louis pushes past the door and comes to an immediate stop, seeing the most brutal of his nephews waiting to greet him. “Uncle,” Roman says, taking point. “Is there something we can do for you?”
Louis takes a moment to compose himself, definitely not having expected to see the three infamous killers hovering by the door as a welcome party. He raises his chin, wanting to take control of the conversation as he glances between his nephews, but he should know better than that. He lost any form of control he may have had over this family the moment the brothers stepped into the prime position. “Where is your father?” he demands. “I need to meet with him about an urgent matter.”