"Of course." Her smile was syrupy sweet.

"Mo." Sergio walked up to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Why don't you go put that down and get some food in your stomach."

"Oh."

Her brows furrowed.

"Okay."

"I'll take it." Sergio sent her on her way and elbowed me while n.o.body looked. b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"An attentive spouse is hard to find." The man lifted his cup to Sergio.

h.e.l.l. No.

"Isn't it though?" He tilted his head and walked off, which probably saved his life considering I was contemplating about a thousand different ways to strangle him with my bare hands.

"The Commission." Frank cleared his throat. "Should be good for us old men to discuss the new bosses."

"It should."

They continued to talk, boring me to tears, I tried to appear interested. When the conversation shifted to the Nicolasi family I excused myself and went into the kitchen.

Mo was sitting on one of the barstools laughing while Sergio lifted a grape to her lips.

Was he freaking kidding me?

"Eat," he commanded.

Mo rolled her eyes and took the grape from his hand popping it into her mouth. Good girl.

She reached for another one, her hand colliding with his. Bad girl, bad, bad, girl. Jolting back, she apologized.

"Never apologize for holding my hand," he said sternly.

She wasn't holding your hand jacka.s.s, she was reaching for a grape!

"You're beautiful."

What right did he have to tell her that? My blood boiled as he tucked a piece of hair, my hair, behind her ear and leaned in.

"Sergio," I said in clipped tones.

"Frank needs you."

"You're sure?"

"Go." I barked.

Slowly, Sergio pulled away from Mo and walked by me, but not before b.u.mping my chest with his shoulder.

Yeah keep that up dude, we'll see who ends up dead by morning.

Mo got up from the stool and started collecting dishes. Her dress hugged every angle of her body like a second skin. Then she bent over the counter, nearly sending me into a fit of hysterics as the dress rose to her a.s.s.

"Mo," I groaned. "You need to go change."

Her hand hovered over some of the dishes, I could see every muscle in her body tense before she turned and shrugged a shoulder. "I like my dress."

"That-" I pointed. "-is not a dress and you know it."

"Oh yeah?" She turned fully to me, propping her hands on her hips. "What else would it be?"

"Lingerie?" I offered. "I mean if your goal's to get every guy in this room salivating over you while I watch, then by all means go for it, but don't come crying to me when one of them corners you and tries to rip that sorry excuse for a piece of clothing from your body."

With a gasp she put her hands over her mouth, tears filled her eyes.

"Mo-" My voice cracked. "I won't ask again. It looks... desperate."

Lies, all lies, she looked beautiful, and I couldn't be in the same room with her, couldn't even concentrate on breathing in and out if she was going to keep walking around like that. I was ready to murder any guy who looked at her, even the ones I knew that were half blind because of age.

"You should go." Her voice shook.

"Now."

"Mo-"

"Please."

I took a step towards her and another, and another, until I was inches from her face.

Make it real! Phoenix's voice blared in my head. "You have to make them believe it or you're sentencing them all to death."

"Fine," I seethed, baring my teeth.

"Wear whatever you want it's not like I care anyways. You were just a little crush... something to..." I grinned, hating myself. "Pa.s.s the time with. But now that I've had you... h.e.l.l, who cares if they all want to try a sample."

With a cry she slapped me across the face once then backhanded me. I let her. Better she hate me, better she believe me, better she be alive.

"I hate you."

I leaned in until our lips almost touched. "Good."

She stormed past me in tears. I leaned against the counter, letting my head fall slack as my stomach churned with anger and sadness.

"Ouch," Phoenix said behind me. "I didn't say to destroy her, just to make her believe it."

"Not now." I snapped.

"Bee's hanging out with Trace and Mil. You better hope they don't get their claws too deep. Oh, and Nixon wanted me to tell you it's time for dinner. The men want you to say the prayer."

I snorted. Right, I was going to talk to G.o.d in front of the men I was supposed to kill; that wasn't sacrilegious, no, not at all.

"May G.o.d have mercy on my soul,"

I muttered.

"He better..." Phoenix followed me out of the room. "Because I've done way worse than you and I'm still hopeful that I won't rot in h.e.l.l."

"Aren't we all?" I breathed taking in each of the faces I was going to eventually betray. "Aren't we all?"

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE.

The Cosa Nostra asks only two things, loyalty and silence. How appropriate considering one would die without both.

Tex I WENT INTO THE DINING room expecting to sit next to Nixon, not to my horror, to be seated at the head of the table. d.a.m.n, but they were already grooming me; preparing me for the role I never asked for but had no choice to take.

With confidence that felt so fake I wanted to roar, I made my way to the head of the table and stood, taking time to glance at every face. Around forty people were seated at the table. From made men in the Nicolasi clan to a.s.sociates, to the Alferos.

And they were all looking to me- even Nixon. Though his gaze could be considered more of a mild curiosity than anything. d.a.m.n, but I would have loved for him to bust my a.s.s and boss me around at that point, but he'd been right earlier. They all had. Stepping up was the only choice to keep everyone safe, so he wasn't interfering, and I both hated and loved him for it.

"Omerta, my men of honor." I lifted my wine gla.s.s. "It is humbling to sit before you, to take my birthright back from the grips of insanity, to claim what's been rightfully mine for over twenty years. I pledge my loyalty, will you also toast to yours?"

Every gla.s.s lifted.

Sealed.

Done.

Even Mo, with shaking hands had lifted her gla.s.s, and it freaking killed me inside to watch her toast to something so menacing. It was like cheering for the dark side knowing d.a.m.n well the story wasn't going to have a happily ever after.

"Salud!" The men cheered.

I sat as plates were pa.s.sed around.

My gaze couldn't help but flicker to Mo, but each time I looked at her, she was drawn into herself.

That is until Sergio made her laugh.

Again.

Then touched her leg. Once, twice, a third time.

I gripped my fork.

"You alright?" Luca whispered from my left. "If I was a suspicious man I'd say you were... jealous?"

"Luca." I turned to him, my eyes cold as death. "Shut the h.e.l.l up before I stab you with my steak knife."

His grin was wide and unwavering.

"Campsi's, so blood thirsty."

"Nicolasi's, so... strategic," I hinted.

His hand paused mid-air, his wine lifted to his lips but he didn't sip. "If you mean to accuse me of something, speak plainly."

I shrugged. "Just... observing."

"And what do you see? Hmm?"

Phoenix said we could trust Luca...

I hated that he was probably right, because I really didn't like the guy. In fact, I wouldn't shed a tear if he suffered a stroke, heartless or not, the guy was...

slick.

"I see an alternate ending," I said quietly. "One I control."

"And if you lose that control?"

"Then we all lose."

"And if you win?" His eyes took on a dark hue as he leaned forward, his dark hair in direct contrast to his bright eyes. "What happens then?"

"Your plan succeeds."

He threw his head back and laughed. "Bravo."

"Luca?" Frank asked from across the table.

"Lovely wine, just... the perfect amount of spice, don't you think gentleman?"

I lifted my gla.s.s and stole another glance at Mo. Sergio was touching her hair-again.

And then he wiped something from her face.

I let out a growl and threw my napkin onto the table.