The captains file in one by one, standing in front of the desk, hands clasped behind their backs, respectfully waiting for me.
Leland, Stanley, Myles, and Frank. They’re no longer my father’s captains, but my captains. They no longer report to my father, but me.
Goddammit. I didn’t fucking want it this way. I wasn’t fucking ready.
I’m not going to be able to grieve like a normal fucking person, so I just need to suck it up and move on with it. There are more important things to think about. I knew that one day I would have to take his job, I was prepared to have him die, even if it wasn’t from natural causes.
Is this how she felt?
Grace.
I always come back to her in my thoughts, no matter what.
Is this how she feels?
Overwhelming need for her consumes me. I want to hold her. To be with her. To let her take away the pain that’s lodged itself in my soul like a knife. I need the feeling of being complete right now, when everything else is so absolutely fucked up.
Ciro is the last to enter the room, not joining the row of men standing in front of me but coming to stand at my right shoulder. Myles betrays no emotion, but I know he doesn’t like this one fucking bit. He was my father’s second, and he’s clearly not happy about losing his position to my best friend. But he’ll just have to fucking get over it.
The only person I’m going to have in that role is the man who’s always been there for me. Ciro was my second yesterday and he’ll be my second today. Just because my position in the syndicate has changed, that doesn’t mean his will.
I challenge Myles with a glance, daring him to say something, but he wisely keeps his mouth shut.
“The body has been moved to holding until funeral arrangements can be made,” I begin, clearing my throat. “We don’t want the cops involved—they’ll only get in the way of our own investigation, and when we find out who did this, we won’t want them standing in the way of our vengeance either. In the meantime, we’ll proceed as my father would have wished. You will now be receiving orders from me, and I hope I’ll prove myself as worthy of your loyalty as he was.”
I give each of them a look, and they square their shoulders, giving stiff nods. They may not like that I’ve been given power at such a young age, but I’m not planning on stepping aside. This is my family legacy, and I’m going to uphold it no matter what it takes.
My only focus now, the goal that drives me, is to find the mole and take whoever the fuck it is down. Because I have a feeling they’re responsible for my father’s death.
“Report,” I say shortly.
“Nothing was found on any local security cameras,” Frank says, stepping forward. “The plates on the car had been stripped to avoid recognition and the vehicle abandoned shortly after. There was no forensic evidence inside of the car. But the shooter wasn’t alone, there was evidence of a second person in the car.”
They got away too fast.
My leg twinges, pain echoing through my body. If it weren’t for my old injury, maybe I could have caught up, shot the fucker before he got away, but my leg prevented me from going faster and avenging my father’s death.
Maybe I am too fucking weak to deserve this position.
I grit my teeth, forcing the thought out of my head as Frank continues.
“Whoever was behind this didn’t leave a mark behind, and none of our rivals or enemies have stepped forward to claim responsibility. For all we know, it could have been a hit and run.”
“Could’ve been. But I don’t think it was,” Myles cuts in. “If it were a random hit and run, it wouldn’t have been such a clean, quick job. No one else but Damian was shot, and he was shot with precision. They had a plan. A strategy.”
Myles speaks the truth, as much as I fucking hate it.
I nod, forcing words past my tight throat. “I agree. Whoever shot my father knew what they were doing. They knew Damian would be where he was, when he was there.”
Which means they knew about the deal, the victory, and the party. They knew too fucking much.
The men before me all grow silent at my words. Myles nods in agreement, the movement small. They’ve all picked up on the words I didn’t say, and I watch their expressions change as they absorb that information.
Someone betrayed us.
Up until tonight, my father kept his suspicions of a mole in our midst buried. The only people who knew were me and my men, Grace, and my father. But after what happened tonight, I can’t pretend to be ignorant of the possibility of betrayal. Myles was already reaching the same conclusion as he spoke his thoughts aloud.
“If I may be so bold,” Myles interrupts my thoughts, stepping forward. He’s a bit older than my father, with a hawkish nose and sharp eyes. “I think there are other questions we need to ask ourselves as we proceed.”