Devon

After finally coming down, I slept hard for several hours before waking to a persistent buzzing sound which I knew was my phone. Victoria is still sound asleep in my arms, so after procrastinating for a few moments, I slip my arm out from under her and rise from the bed. An immediate head rush reminds me of all the fun we had the night before. I pause for a few seconds to steady myself before going in search of my phone. This is why I quit doing coke. It’s always fun at the time, but the next day, I always feel like dog shit. I click on the bathroom light to allow me to find my phone, and I catch a glimpse of the red marks on my neck. It looks like someone tried to strangle me. I chuckle as I realize that’s exactly what went down. She has some strong little hands.

“Oh, shit,” I say out loud upon clicking through my missed calls and messages. It’s immediately obvious that something is not right. I click to listen to the latest message from Tiny. A tightening feeling grips my chest as I listen to his words. Someone apparently strapped a car bomb of some kind to the bottom of my Escalade. The kid is dead, and both Tiny and Felix are in the hospital. Felix is in critical condition. “Fuck!”

I head back into the bedroom to throw on some clothes before returning any calls. It’s six am, and after only four hours of sleep, it’s going to be a long ass day. I throw on a fresh set of clothes before splashing my face with water and running my hands through my hair. A shower will have to wait. I’ve got to head over to the hospital and check on the guys. I call down to the concierge desk to have them request a limo for me. Requesting one myself might be a dangerous move, so it’s better if we go incognito. “Don’t tell them it’s for me,” I instruct the woman taking my request.

“What’s going on?” Victoria asks, coming to my side.

“We took a hit last night,” I reply with growing anger. “After the guys left here, they got back to the club and a bomb went off right after the kid pulled into our parking spot. He was killed, and both Felix and Tiny are in the hospital. Felix is critical,” I relay, wondering just how much C-4 was needed to penetrate the vehicle. For the kid to be killed, there had to be enough to blow through the steel-plated firewall. “The kid just turned eighteen in March.”

“That’s too bad. He seemed like a nice kid,” Victoria adds, slipping her arm around my waist and giving me a squeeze.

“Why don’t you get dressed?” I suggest. “I would like for you to go with me to the hospital.” The fact that the bomb had been onboard the whole time that we were in the car is freaking me out a bit. I was most likely the ultimate target, so the fact that it didn’t detonate while I was present could only mean one thing—Victoria is as important as she has implied. Whoever did this must have had instructions not to hurt her.

“Sure,” she replies with a shrug before returning to the bedroom. “At least you have a fresh set of clothes. I’m in for a long walk of shame if you want me to go like this.” She picks up the dress that has spent the night on my bedroom floor and shakes it in a vain attempt to release some of the wrinkles. “You wouldn’t happen to have a hair tie, would you?”

I chuckle and retrieve a brush from the bathroom. “I tend to wear my hair high and tight, so no, I don’t own any hair ties. We’ll stop off at your room so you can change clothes and freshen up. I’ll give you five minutes.”

“How generous of you,” she replies with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll hurry. If I were in your shoes, I would want to get to the root of this as quickly as possible.”

“Yeah. While you do that, I’ll give Frosty a call to get a damage report.” Frosty is the mechanical one of the bunch. He’s the guy behind the scenes who keeps everything working for us. Whenever anything needs a little attention, he’s the one I call. He was actually the one who did all of the bulletproofing on the Escalade, so he’ll have a good idea of what it took to blow through it. I remember thinking that it had been overkill since he added over fifteen hundred pounds to the weight of the vehicle.

Once in her room, she heads toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right out. Make yourself comfortable.”

I look around for the best place to sit for a private conversation. After calling his phone three times, Frosty finally picks up. “You must’ve just heard the news,” he says in a groggy voice. “It’s really bad, boss.”

“Yeah, I listened to Tiny’s message. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him so shaken up. What happened?” I ask, anxious to hear a firsthand account instead of just voicemails.

“I didn’t see them pull up, but apparently, right when they came to a stop in the normal parking spot, the bomb was detonated,” he says, clearing his throat. “It blew so hard that a bunch of glasses came crashing down onto the bar and two of the front windows shattered.”

“That had to be one hell of a blast,” I comment, trying to imagine what could cause that amount of damage.

“Yeah, it had to be two or three pounds of C-4,” he says with conviction in his voice. “It dislodged the stainless steel plate and completely shredded the ballistic nylon and Kevlar. I used ten layers to replace the floorboards.”

“Yeah, I remember giving you shit for going completely overboard,” I admit, feeling a huge wave of regret. “Obviously, I was wrong.”

“Well, Boss. There really isn’t any way to protect against something like this unless you want to ride around in a military-grade SUV.” There is silence in the air as we’re both obviously contemplating where to go from here.

“Is there anything left of it?”

“It’s not salvageable, if that’s what you’re asking,” he replies frankly. “Does your insurance cover car bombs?”

“That’s a damn good question.” I shudder at the thought of being a target of such a powerful weapon. “That’s going to be an awkward conversation with my State Farm agent. Well, we’ve got to run. Would you call around and tell everyone to lay low today? I’m not sure the club is safe, so I’ll tell Stan to stay closed.”

“I’ve been thinking about this situation, and I think I’ve got some grave news for you,” Victoria informs me right after I hang up the call. The expression on her face says it all. The normal look of unshakeable confidence has definitely been shaken. She looks like a queen who has suddenly realized that her kingdom is falling all around her. Something is seriously wrong. Her look turns contemplative before she finally speaks the tortured words. “I have a feeling my father has made his choice.”

Victoria

After a lifetime of small wounds, I fear that my father has just shoved a sword through my chest. Why couldn’t he give me another week or two to prove myself? After receiving a message from him yesterday that I was wasting my time as well as his, I called him back and gave him a piece of my mind. I was angry, not only at the current situation, but at everything that has been building up over the past twenty-eight years. I have done everything he has asked. It wasn’t my idea to attend Harvard and become a real estate attorney. I would’ve been much happier moving to Milan and studying fashion merchandising. Now, after jumping through all the hoops for him, he appears to be casting me aside. He didn’t even remember that it was my birthday. That fucking prick.

“My last name is Riccolo,” I tell Devon bluntly. “Victoria Lynn Riccolo.” He has been sporting a long, concerned face since he got up, but his jaw literally drops with my admission.

“And Victor is your father? Capo dei Capi?” He shakes his head and looks as if his world is crashing down around him. He suddenly realizes that my father is the head of The Syndicate. Capo dei Capi means the boss of the bosses. “Fuck. How did this happen?” he asks, still in complete shock.

“It’s not what you think. I’m sure he’s not the one who ordered the hit,” I assure him. “He’s just not allowing me to protect you any longer.”

“You . . . protecting me?” he asks with a flash of anger in his eyes.

“Yes. The Irishman was going to take you out that day in the club. But I called him out on it. That’s actually why I got such a quick escort to the door.” I watch his expression change as I explain how things actually went down.

“That’s the first thing that has made sense all week,” he says, shaking his head in amazement. “But how did you know?”

“Capo dei Capi knows all.”

“Why did you save me?” he asks, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“Because of this,” I reply, bending down to pull his file from my briefcase. I hand the two-inch-thick folder to him. “You’ve been under surveillance since the moment you arrived in this city. At first, The Syndicate was impressed with all that you were accomplishing, but then the money you extorted from businesses started to cut into drug sales. Every dollar that goes into the hands of government officials is one less dollar on the street.”

“So that’s what you meant by stepping on toes?” He continues to shake his head in disbelief.

“You can’t come in and change everything without consequences,” I explain once again. “Last night was a warning regardless of where it came from. I won’t know where it came from until I have a chance to sit down with my father. Regardless, it means that we no longer have his protection.”

“He’s still protecting you,” Devon counters. “Otherwise, that bomb would’ve blown with you and me onboard.”

“I’m not so sure he wants you dead,” I tell him, not knowing for certain. The subject of Devon DeLuca has been a strained one ever since his file first landed on my desk. After going through everything, I saw Devon as a way to compete with my half-brother for the throne. There is no chance that a woman would ever be put in charge of The Syndicate, but if I teamed up with a man like Devon, it would give me a fighting chance. “I’m really sorry that kid was killed.”

“Yeah, I’ll have to call his mother later. She’s a fucking crack head, which is why I took him on in the first place.” His eyes grow dark again. “His name was James Tucker. He was only sixteen when I caught him stealing from me, back when I first started renovating the club. Once I saw his background, I set up a room for him in the back and gave him a job. He straightened out once somebody gave him a chance. We should go over to the hospital and check on the others.”

We walk in silence to the elevator and it continues as the elevator descends to the lobby. The crease between his eyebrows is evidence of the strain he’s suddenly feeling. It’s rough when you realize that you aren’t king of the hill but just the king of an anthill that can be crushed beneath the heel of the real king at any moment. His reality for the past two years has been one of unchallenged authority, but that’s only because the true authorities haven’t come calling until now. How he handles himself in the coming days will prove whether he is capable of transforming into a true leader or whether he becomes just another speck on the bottom of my father’s heel. I’m hoping he can pass the test because last night was absolutely incredible.