Savage Queen (The Dark Elite 3)

“That woman is a fucking psycho,” I mutter.

Zaid nods, his lips pressed into a tight line.

My twin and I haul the body down to the basement. Our forensics team will go over it and examine it as soon as possible. In the meantime, we set the lumpy, blood-soaked bag on a metal cart. Leaving my brother to check over the body one last time, I start to backtrack, cleaning up the mess we made on the way.

“Lucas, get back over here,” Zaid calls.

There’s something in his voice that makes me freeze. I stride quickly over to him, and the look on his face confirms what I heard in his voice. Whatever he found, it’s not good.

“What? What is it?”

His expression is grim, his lips pressed into such a tight line that they’ve gone white at the corners. He holds out a small piece of heavy grade paper, about the size of a business card. It’s streaked with blood, and it must’ve been attached to the body somewhere or maybe stuffed into a pocket. It reminds me eerily of the tag the butchered dog wore—the one with the name reading Grace.

Zaid presses the note into my hand with a low curse. I turn it over, reading the words written in an elegant scrawl. When I look back up at my brother, all I can do is echo the word he just said.

“Fuck.”

7

Grace

The scene outside the men’s house was so similar to the last time, I’m not sure why it took me so off guard. But I suppose your first time seeing a body so mangled like that, so dehumanized…

Nothing can prepare you for that.

This time, the men didn’t leave me in the dining room when the sound came from the front hall. None of them tried to stop me when I followed behind them. Lucas immediately pushed me back when we all realized what exactly was on the front stoop, who exactly had been dumped there, but not before I soaked in every detail, a new image forever seared into my mind.

The dead dog is long gone in my memories, replaced by that.

That absolute mutilation.

She’s sick. My mother is absolutely sick to even order something like this. To be able to give the order, knowing full well what the end result would be…

Who is this woman?

How the fuck did she give birth to me?

How do we share even a shred of DNA?

Even though the body has been carried away, I can’t control the nausea churning in my stomach. Taking a shuddery breath, I swipe at my mouth with the back of my hand, the taste of acid coating my tongue. I’m never going to eat fucking chicken parmesan ever again. Even the thought of sitting back down at the dinner table after this makes me want to vomit all over.

As soon as they realized what was on the stoop, all four men sprang into action. Lucas and Zaid moved like lightning, grabbing a bag and loading the hacked-up body into it before carrying it away. It was almost scary how calm they all acted in the face of such carnage. While they dealt with the body, Ciro disappeared briefly and came back with a bucket of chemicals.

Now he throws them down over the front steps, washing away the crimson stain that mars the stoop.

Hale has been on the phone since the twins disappeared with the body, calling various members of his organization and arranging for a forensics team to come examine the corpse for clues. He paces across the foyer, running a hand through his dark hair as he speaks into the sleek phone that’s pressed to his ear.

“I want you to bring Leland’s family in,” he says. “Yes, all of them. Pick them up and put them under protection. There’s a hit out on them.”

Shit. I hadn’t even thought about Leland’s family. His wife. Kids. They lost their dad in the worst way—not just because he was murdered, but because they’re also likely about to find out that he was a traitor. They’ll have to live with that for the rest of their lives.

And still, even though Hale hated Leland more than any other man in the world… he’s willing to put aside his hatred and protect innocent lives, regardless of the family connection they share with the traitor. He’ll protect Leland’s wife and kids, despite the sins of their husband and father.

My heart squeezes in my chest.

My mom would kill the whole family in cold blood if she had the chance, and Hale’s going to make sure she never gets that chance.

It’s messy fucking business, mafia politics. There is no black and white, just a muddled gray mess of morals and conflicted feelings. Hale may be the leader of one of the most ruthless organized crime syndicates in Chicago, but he isn’t going to let a family be murdered simply because they are no longer his problem.