I t was beyond surreal being at the Silver Pear again after what felt like a lifetime away. The driver, Misha, let me off a few blocks from the place and then took off, flooring it as he turned a tight corner, heading away from enemy territory as fast as he could .

Honestly, I didn't know who the real wolves were anymore. I'd lied to Anton. Pretended to play along with his plan, the only way to get away and discover what was really going on .

Still, my body hadn't lied to him last night, or the night before that. He'd taken my virginity and come dangerously close to stealing my heart. Each time he made me come, I lost a piece of myself, offered it up to him on a quivering silver platter .

Fucking him felt good. Felt right. His body consoled me when everything I thought I knew about my family turned to ashes. The sex protected me, possessive and safe as it was pleasurable .

I just wasn't sure if it was enough. Even if I didn't have these terrifying truths up ahead, I needed space. I had to take my time away and figure out what the hell Anton Ivankov had done to me .

This thing between us went way beyond a family blood feud, and way beyond fiery loving too. He'd been the only man with the balls to treat me like a lady right before he fucked my brains out .

That had to count for something, didn't it ?

I should've expected this freakish love-lust thing storming in the middle of our family war. But nothing prepared me for how much I loved feeling him pressed up against me, not to mention how much I missed him now that he was gone, separated by a divide far more vast than the country bleeding into Chicago's concrete jungle .

I sat down in the bar without a second look, ordering my favorite martini. It tasted bittersweet. I wasn't sure if I should linger there all day or try heading back to my condo .

Regardless, Uncle Gioulio wouldn't take long to find out about my return. The sooner he did, the better. It meant this would all be over that much quicker .

The burner phone in my purse blazed hot every time I reached inside it, fumbling for a tissue or a piece of gum. I had the power to betray my family and kill my uncle. It was a sick curse to have this justice weighing on my shoulders like a stone, but I refused to use it unless I knew there was total reason to .

I wouldn't do anything until I knew the truth. And even then, I had my doubts. If everything Anton showed me was real, and my uncle was really a disgusting sex trafficker who'd murdered papa, could I really pull the trigger by dialing the brothers ?

I choked on the thoughts, coughing up the last uneven sip of my martini. I was still trying to stop when a big hand fell on my shoulder. I turned, blotting my mouth with a napkin, and looked up into Vitto's nervous eyes .

“My god! It's really you, Miss Ligiotti. Wonderful to see you again. I thought my waiter was mistaken.” His lips twisted from side to side, as if he was chewing on the revelation. “I already placed a call, just in case. Your uncle will be here soon. He's been worried, looking all over for you since he heard about the breakout. It's been all over the news .”

Panic shot through my chest. Almost set off a dry coughing spell, but I managed to keep it together, reaching for the glass of water on the table and guzzling it down .

“Are you okay? Please, just say the word if there's anything you need from us. Water, aspirin...ambulance?” The last word was strained. I knew my uncle told him not to involve the police .

I threw off his trembling hand, shaking my head, rising from the table and carrying my water with me, heading for the benches near the front. “I'm fine. I'll wait for him near the steps .”

Vitto hesitated, but he didn't pursue me. Whatever. He'd played his lackey part too well .

I'm sure he would've been screaming after me if I'd taken a single step outside the restaurant. As long as I was waiting for my uncle to collect me, in a place where the manager could watch, he'd done his job .

I wished it were just as simple for me .

Waiting for Uncle Gioulio was worse than death row. He must've come racing from one end of Chicago to the other because the sleek black limo jerked up to the curb five minutes later. Rough, stoic men jumped out in their neat suits, opening the door in the back .

Uncle Gioulio wore the killer look I'd dreaded ever since I was a little girl. It was the look that transformed him from my favorite uncle, my protector, into the cold blooded mobster he truly was .

I shuddered. It wasn't so different from Anton's expression during the prison break, was it ?

Ready to strike. Ready to kill. Ready to rip apart anything and anyone who got in his way .

My uncle slapped the door so hard it flew open, and then he was right in front of me, six feet of hard, balding judgment stuffed into a five thousand dollar suit .

“Niece!” He dropped on his knees, banging them on the floor hard enough to make me wince. He pulled me halfway off the bench into his arms, pressing his cool face to mine. “This reunion's nothing but a miracle. My God. What did they do to you ?”

I tried to promise myself I wouldn't shake when he touched me the whole ride here. All those promises turned to ash, and I started to shudder in his arms, sick like death himself was holding onto me .

“Brina!” Uncle Gioulio pulled back, looking me in the face. “Talk to me right now! How did you get away? What the fuck did they do ?”

I saw his hand fingering the switchblade he always kept near his pocket. His eyes were big, bright, churning like they were filled with tears .

God! God damn it .

He really cared. I couldn't ignore that. It wasn't just an act – he was ready to avenge me for every filthy touch, every torture, every insult raging in his mind. It took all my strength just to pry my lips open and make my tongue work .

“Uncle, they let me go. They wanted me to give you a message.” I used the first of the lines Anton had given me .

“Stop, niece. Come with me. This isn't the place for this kind of business.” He grabbed me by the hand and pulled me out the door .

Nobody spoke again until we were in the limo, heading for the big house he kept in the city proper. I watched him pour a tall glass of wine from the silvery dispenser in the car. He downed it in one gulp and wiped his mouth, folding his hands as he leaned forward .

“Something to warm my guts. It's been so cold without you, Brina. I was ready to raid every fucking Ivankov property when I heard he'd taken you ...”

The guards at his side were as tough and serious looking as ever, but Uncle Gioulio's face was ten times darker. Meaner. Insistent in a way that told me I'd better start feeding him answers .

“Did they hurt you ?”

“No.” I prayed he'd believe it. I was prepared to lie a lot to make this go down like I wanted – hell, I'd already done enough pretending to make Anton let me go .

“I told you not to see the Russian again.” Gioulio's face tightened and turned red. “Do you realize you could've been killed in that prison riot? I can't believe they didn't torture you on the outside, or worse. You're a lucky girl, niece. And a fucking stupid one .”

I blinked. Uncle Gioulio had never insulted me like that before. Shame passed through me like a sickly current, and my eyes went to the floor. I hated him for what he'd supposedly done, especially if he'd killed papa on top of his crimes .

But it still hurt to be called out like that. When I looked up, the edge was off his face, if only a little .

“I'm sorry .”

Yeah, I truly was. Sorry I'd ever gotten myself into this fucked up situation. Maybe sorry I'd been born .

“It's done, Brina. Let's not dwell on it. You're safe – that's what really matters. You understand, all that's left for us now is payback, capisce? No one takes my niece and treats her like a slave. I'll skin them all alive myself .”

His hands moved in a whirl. Next thing I knew, the knife was out, extended and sharp, the dull edge sliding up his gray thigh .

“Uncle, please don't do anything too rash. We need to think this through .”

“We?” The darkness curdled his features again. “My dear girl, we're going home and you're going to tell me absolutely everything you remember about the time you spent with those barbarians. And then you're going back to your condo under lock and key with permanent men assigned to protect you. I won't let you out until the city's free from the Ivankov bastards. I should've killed them all when they were still in diapers. If it wasn't for your old man and that fucking truce ...”

He trailed off, smoothed his face, shot me an apologetic look. Strike two. He'd never bad mouthed my father. Uncle Gioulio was flustered, enraged, maybe even scared. I wondered if he was just going crazy from all the emotions, or if the mask was slipping .

My lips stayed sealed. I wasn't going to argue with him. Not now. We took the next few miles in silence, rumbling into the gated community where he had his Chicago mansion .

My lungs felt sharp tacks inside them every time I drew breath. It hurt just to breathe because it made me think about the complications burying me alive, suffocating the happy nights I'd had with Anton .

I hoped with all my might that there was still some way out of this without someone getting killed. But the chances were fading like the pale sun overhead slipping into its tomb-like clouds .

There was no stopping Uncle Gioulio once I spilled my guts. And there was no stopping Anton either. Kill or be killed. Inevitable as the day was long .

All I had was the power of life and death in my hands, and even that threatened to slip away from me with every volcanic breath .

* * *

I nside his sitting room, underneath the big chandelier, Uncle Gioulio fixed us drinks and sat down across from me .

The first sip burned before fading to sultry smoothness. Brandy .

“Tell me, why did they send you back? What's this message they were willing to forfeit their lives for? I'm going to kill them all, you know. Letting you go unharmed doesn't change that .”

The two guards near the door shuffled uncomfortably. Who could blame them? This very second, my uncle's full hellfire was focused on me .

“They were trying to kill you when Anton blew up Club Duce –“

“Anton?” My uncle cut me off, narrowing his eyes .

Shit. I shouldn't have used his name like that. It was too familiar, too intimate. If only he knew how intimate .

“The oldest one, the man who took me hostage during the interview. Ivankov has a terrible grudge. He blames you for putting him behind bars. He suffered a lot in prison. These state facilities aren't so kind to men who pick up nicknames like Chicago Bomber .”

“Ha!” Uncle Gioulio slapped the armrest so hard brandy sloshed out of his glass and stained the rug at his feet. “He killed twenty of my fucking partners. Twenty of Chicago's finest men. Did you know fifteen of them had families? Young kids? They were cut down in their prime like dogs by that fucking coward .”

I gulped my brandy. I'd need the extra buzz for this next part. I was going off script, departing from the cold, half-believable words Anton taught me to say .

“Yeah, about that...the Russians told me they weren't upstanding citizens. They said these men came to your club to indulge in some really depraved desires...sick crap I don't even want to say. Uncle, do you know anything about this ?”

For a second, Uncle Gioulio paused, eyeing me like a hawk fixing on its prey. Then he shot out of his chair and stood, fists balled to iron at his sides .

“Come on! You don't believe that horseshit, do you, Brina ?”

I swallowed. God help me. I didn't know what to believe. I'd been poisoned, tossed and turned until I couldn't make sense of anything. My belly tightened up in knots and sweat seeped out my pores like needles .

Why was this so hard? Why couldn't I see who was really pumping venom into my mind and soul ?

“Sabrina...fuck. Having you looking at me like that's a dagger in the side.” He sounded genuinely hurt, running one hand across his lower torso for effect. His eyes hardened, darkened, shaking in his head. “You know they'll tell you any lie to come between us, don't you? That's the way it is in this game. Brother against brother, father against daughter, a patriarch against his bright young stars .”

He turned, staring at the fire. One of the guards coughed and immediately clapped a hand over his mouth. If I thought having his disgusted eyes on me was tough, the silence was worse .

It ended with Gioulio's fist banging on the masonry. That had to hurt .

The big painting of Florence above the hearth tumbled to the ground and splintered. I jumped, feeling the resounding crash echoing in the room for the next thirty seconds .

“Do you think I'd work with such diseased minds, Brina? Believe that I'd give them innocent girls to tear apart with their teeth? Is that what the Russians told you?” The smile creeping across his face was so nasty I struggled back in my chair. “What else did they tell you? They wanted to sow the seeds of my death in your own pretty head. I know their type. Cowards, who can't face me man-to-man. So, they send my own niece to do the dirty work for them .”

He came close, circling me like a shark, stopping behind me. His suit shuffled. I heard something snap and skate up the fabric .

His blade appeared next to my right temple. I screamed, pressed myself into the chair, and only opened my eyes when he didn't start to shred my skin .

What kind of psychopath was he? Why was he just holding it there? Was he fucking terrorizing me ?

Uncle Gioulio reached for my hand, pulled it up, and tucked my fingers around the handle. “There. On your feet, Brina. Stand up. Right the fuck now .”

I clenched the knife and did it, turning toward him. The metal was so cold in my hand, heavier than I'd expected .

“What do you want?” I asked, barely a whisper. “Why are you making me do this ?”

“If you believe anything those bastards told you, then I need you to drive that knife into my throat right now. Go on. Do it.” He held his head up, stepping around the chair, until we were a couple feet apart. “I'd rather be killed by family on my feet than stabbed in the back on my fucking knees and tossed to my enemies .”

My fingers clenched until they turned numb. The tingling spread. It felt like I'd left my body and I was observing the surreal scene from somewhere on high, adrift in total confusion .

“Go ahead, niece. Do it. Make your old man proud. He'd want you to rid this world of evil. It's what I deserve for pushing him into an early grave .”

I snapped back into my body and gasped. Would've dropped the blade if I didn't have such a death grip on it. Did he really just say that – a confession I hadn't asked for ?

So, at least one of his atrocities was true – the one that hurt me most. My own father, killed by the man in front of me, the man I'd always trusted .

“Why, uncle? Fucking why?” Hot tears stung my eyes .

For the first time in my life, Uncle Gioulio was shaking, alive with the same vicious current tearing through me. His savage offer was so fucking tempting just then. One push forward, one stab, and all my troubles would be over. Well, right until the guards fell on me and did who knew what for striking down their master .

“I did it for you,” he whispered, grasping the edge of my empty chair and steadying himself. “Gio was outta control. He died the night that car ran down your mama. He turned to the needle, blew his brains out with that junk, wouldn't even look after his own fucking daughter! I had to do everything for you. Those men I sent by the house every week were there to make sure you were being fed. I had to know he hadn't fucked up and abandoned you. I thought it was just a phase at first, something he'd get over. But the fucking weeks turned into months, then into years...my brother was gone. That shell he left in the condo snorting and drinking until he passed out wasn't the man I grew up with, the man you called papa .”

I turned the blade up in my hand, one good jab away from his neck. “You could've fucking saved him! He needed help! Rehab, treatment ...”

Gioulio chuckled hoarsely and shook his head. “You know that's not the way this family does things. Yes, I could've shipped him off to see some quacks and get him clean. And then what? Watch him pick up some other terrible, reckless habit? Lose everything when he cracks and tell some pissant doctor all about the sins this family's done for money? You can't bring back a man's dead black heart, niece! I thought you could, at first, and I was dead wrong. Don't you get it? I loved him so much I saved you both the only way I knew how .”

“You killed him! He drowned in his own blood. I saw him, uncle. He suffered .”

“No!” Gioulio wiped his tears and held a finger up like steel. “I made it painless. The stuff I gave him did the job instantly. He never knew what hit him. He died blasted out of his damned skull, a high like none of us will ever know. And thank God we won't !”

Every part of me was shaking except the hand I had around the blade. That was cold, eager to kill, if only I weren't having my brains blasted out my ears by this horrible revelation .

Anton was right. He must've been right about everything .

But then, why did my uncle deny serving the twisted freaks at the club when he admitted to killing my own father? It didn't make sense. Or else Gioulio was playing one big fat mind game designed to make me clay in his hands. My heart was falling to pieces finding out Uncle Gioulio was this filthy, this damaged, this tormented. And I didn't even know how bad it truly was .

Who else was lying to me? If the men at Club Duce hadn't been demons torturing girls for their pleasure...then Anton was dirty too. He'd lied to me and gotten lucky about my uncle killing papa. He'd used me, wanted me to take the blade and kill my uncle in a fit of rage .

Fuck me .

I wanted to end it all right there. The urge to fall on him, tear out his throat, and then turn the knife on myself was overwhelming me. I held the knife out several times when he looked like he was about to come closer, warning him away .

“Don't.” It was the only word I could manage, and it came out so hateful my mouth tasted like I'd bit into a strong pepper .

“Brina, please. You're fucking killing me. Either slit my throat and finish this, or else find some way to forgive me. I was gonna come clean, you know. I just didn't think it would have to be like this.” He sighed sadly. “There's too much at stake. You're young. I kept you away from all this, and now the underworld's hurting you, bursting through my shield. You can't see through their lies the way I do .”

God help me. My burning wrist made the decision for me. I let go. The switchblade dropped and rattled on the floor, and my fingers came off it like it was hot iron. The clatter on the ceramic tile drilled through the silence .

“The Ivankovs are never honest,” my uncle growled, stepping up, jerking me into his embrace. This time, I didn't resist. “Remember that. I'm telling you the ugly truth. All of it .”

His wrinkled fingers pushed their way through my hair. For some sick reason, it reminded me of Anton, and then I completely broke. I bawled like a baby, splashing his expensive suit with tears .

His confession about killing papa repulsed me. I should've jumped away and scratched him in the face if I didn't have the courage to slaughter him for what he'd done. But I was too weak, too utterly lost in his torturous confession .

Whatever plan there'd been when I came here, it was in total ruins now. I'd never see Anton Ivankov again. And I didn't know whether I ought to miss the bastard or not. I wasn't sure if he'd screwed me over just as bad as my asshole uncle .

Damn it. This whole fucking thing was supposed to bring clarity. Now, I was just drowning in confusion, burning every last bridge I ever had to the men I loved .

“You want the truth?” Uncle Gioulio whispered, giving my wavy hair another pull. “I can give you the rest. I put Gio out of his misery, and I deserve to burn for it. I know that. But I'm not the one who destroyed him. I know who killed your mama, little lamb .”

My eyes burned harder. I turned my head up, hating him for offering another twisted truth .

God. Everything they said about honesty was a wretched lie, wasn't it? The truth never set anyone free. It condemned them to the darkest pits of hell, and whatever he was going to tell me offered no illusions about anything else .

“Marino! Gabriele!” He clapped his hands, calling to the guards. “Leave us. This talk's for family ears only .”

Still holding me, Uncle Gioulio walked. We left the room with the blade still lying on the ground. The guards didn't follow, a first for any time I'd been in my uncle's presence. We headed downstairs through the concealed kitchen entrance, down past the wine cellar where we'd always stopped before .

There was a small, unfinished room next to the laundry I'd never seen before. He fished out a key and opened the door. Dust wafted up my nose and I sneezed, then did a double take when I saw the walls lined with filing cabinets .

My uncle motioned me over to the tiny desk with two chairs in the middle. As soon as I sat, he opened up a drawer and rifled through it until he found what he was searching for – a simple manilla folder like something you'd see stored in an old clinic .

He circled the table and slammed it on the table. “Everything's here about the night your mama died. It wasn't a simple car accident. You're a smart girl, Brina. How is it you've never doubted that before ?”

A numb chill crept up my spine and bathed my brain. My emotional circuits were fried, and he was hellbent on piling more through them. I looked up, one hand squeezing my purse. I needed it to hurt, cramp my muscles so I could feel something .

“You've ripped my heart out plenty today. Whatever you're going to say about her, just tell me the truth. No more theatrics .”

His eyes narrowed. Slowly, he nodded, licking one finger to pluck the folder open. Then he stopped in mid-turn. His eyes went to my purse, and he rose from his chair .

“What? What is it ?”

“That bag. You brought it back with you, right? It was with you at the Russians' compound .”

I tried to protect it, but Uncle Gioulio was too strong, too fast. He ripped it away from me in one swift motion and hauled it over to his side of the desk, tearing open a drawer with his free hand .

“Hey!” I screamed at him like he'd just stepped on my foot in a grocery line .

If only that was the least of his sins .

“Just a moment, Brina. This won't take long.” He was more careful than I expected, pulling out my things and setting them on the table nearby .

My heart pounded when he plucked out the small plastic shell with my birth control. All those hours with Anton buried deep inside me came roaring back, hot and insane and totally wrong. Thank God for small favors – Uncle Gioulio passed it over without stopping to gawk .

“Damn, where is it...” He reached into the empty drawer next to him and held up a long, shiny blade, a sharp letter opener. Except this one looked thicker and sturdier than any commercial kind, like it would just as easily split someone's skull with a well placed jab .

Weapons were everywhere in this house, really nothing more than a luxurious fortress under siege .

How had I been so blind for so long? Jesus. And the truth wasn't even blinding me in its full ultraviolet light yet. I eyed the folder and then turned back to his hands, wondering what the hell he was doing slicing into my purse .

There was a zzzt sound, leather coming apart. A second later, he held up a small black circular thing with little perforations in the middle. I would've known it was a microphone of some sort even if I hadn't watched all those stupid spy things growing up .

“From your Russian friends.” He tossed it like a pebble, and it bounced once in my lap before coming to a rest. “Typical Ivankov sloppiness. I knew there was something on you from the moment you walked in. I wanted to do the search myself – kinder and gentler than my boys would .”

My teeth banged together. Jaw clenched, it felt like my head was about to explode and take the world with it. I pinched the cool plastic between my fingers and turned it around, over and over .

God! And to think I'd been feeling bad about the harmless white lies I'd used to get back, when he and his demented brothers were tracking me the whole fucking time !

How long had it been on me? The entire time I'd been in the house? For all I knew, the other two coarse men were listening in while he held me, mounted me, and fucked me into the dreamiest nights of my life .

My body jerked. Uncle Gioulio smiled and ducked as it whizzed past his head, slapping the concrete wall behind him .

I buried my face in my hands and screamed. The world dimmed, narrowed, swallowing me .

This wasn't supposed to be happening. The original plan was beyond derailed – it was a smoldering tangle of metal and fire, burning up the entire track .

“Don't cry, niece. Nothing's beneath the peasants we're dealing with. Nothing . ”

That word. Whenever I heard it, my whole world shifted. With Anton, it burned hotter and brighter with a sweet excitement I couldn't shake. Now? All circling into a black hole as dark and imposing as the little microphone I'd hurled against the wall .

Uncle Gioulio's hand slid softly across my cheek. I felt the chip in his hand and winced, then turned on him, grabbing his arm with both hands and digging my nails into his suit .

“Get rid of that fucking thing. Please .”

“That's the whole point.” I watched him take a couple steps back .

He reached to the ground, set it down, and stood up. His foot crashed down on it, and it shattered with one stomp .

The thing was discrete, but it clearly wasn't designed to be durable. Not that it was much comfort .

Anton's betrayal lingered. My mind was spinning, questioning everything, once again feeling like both the bridges I had to the Ligiotti and Ivankov lives were dead flaps swinging in the wind .

“I hope they heard every fucking word we said before I killed it,” Uncle Gioulio said, squeezing my shoulder. “We let them know we're aware this is the latest screw-over this family's had. It goes much further than that. For you, for me, the pain's deeper. Personal in a way that won't stop until the last drop of blood on one side or the other's gone .”

He walked to the desk and picked up the folder. My uncle pushed it into my limp hands, and I struggled to take it, flipping through the fat documents .

He put his hands behind mine and helped me hold it open, navigate to the right spot. “There. She was out Christmas shopping, you know. We could still see the crushed bags next to her body and her lost white heel when your father and I rolled up .”

Every breath I took became more like broken glass as he bypassed the police reports and got into the section with the pictures. Downtown Chicago's bright lights filled my eyes from all those years ago. Yellow police tape lined the zone where my mother died on the pavement .

I never saw her face. If there was a photo somewhere, then maybe Uncle Gioulio took it out when I wasn't looking to spare me. Seeing her small, soft body thrown on the dirty ground was enough. Both her shoes were knocked off, and the matching white coat she'd been wearing had black stripes going across it, like the bastard made a conscious decision to drive right over her after the fatal strike .

“These are surveillance photos from nearby businesses,” he said, flipping through to some grainier black and white pictures. “When our contacts in the police brought them over, we couldn't believe it. Gio wanted to march out and kill every last one of those fucks. I wouldn't let him. It would've been suicide. The entire fucking incident was a sneak attack. We had a fucking truce with the Ivankovs when they struck. Same truce I warned him years before not to roll with because I knew it'd bite us in the ass, cause us to let our guard down .

“No, shit was never perfect. War was gonna come between our families sooner or later because we were running up against each other's business. But Christ, even in the old days, you never fucked with a man's family. Here's the piece of shit who ran your mama down, Brina. Take a good look .”

He stabbed a slightly blurry photo of a car racing down the street. Two men sat in the front, but the one behind the wheel had the unmistakable, determined, icy blue eyes of an Ivankov. He was too old to be Anton or any of his brothers .

Seeing those features, wide and full of hate, were just as bad as if it was Anton himself. I ripped the file out of my uncle's hands and held it to my face, forcing my eyes open, letting seething tears fall down the sides of the old documents .

“That's Boris Vassarinivich Ivankov. First generation, first real thug here after the Soviet Union collapsed. Former head of their family. Every branch of the Russian mafia's infamous for letting their commanders fire the first shot when they go to war. Well, this boy did, and he decided to go after the most vulnerable, innocent target he could. He struck down poor Allison. The medical report at the back says she was dead before she hit the concrete, but I know the bastard ran her over twice just to be sure. He wasn't fucking around. He was gunning for her .”

His hand slid down my shoulder, smoothing my back, just the way good old Uncle Gioulio used to do. I'd never forgive him for putting down my father, but I didn't turn his comfort away .

He held me when I dropped the file, rocked me until I stopped shaking .

I was drowning right there in his arms, suffocating in the invisible quicksand pulling me into its fierce undertow. I wanted to die. But first, I wanted to make sure the assholes who'd truly stabbed me in the back found their way to hell first .

My whole body felt dirty. To think I'd relished fucking an Ivankov man with such lust, such insatiable need ...

I turned my head up to the ceiling as far as I could, anything to stop the vertigo, one wrong breath away from forcing me to throw up .

“You've seen enough. The rest is all history, as they say, my niece.” His voice was soft and understanding. “Don't cry. We all spent months grieving her. That's behind us. Your old man couldn't ever put it behind him. He started killing himself recklessly, surely, pushing that shit into his veins every second he was awake .”

“Then why? What's the point of all this? You just want to turn me back to you .”

He blinked, looking strangely hurt. My uncle slipped away, rounded the desk, and plopped back down in front of me. “I want you to work for this family, Brina. Not me. I know I've lost your love doing what I had to do to my poor brother. Fucking kills me to this day. But I'd do it all over again if he was about to fuck you over in a junkie rage or drive you off a bridge some cold night .”

“And how do I do that? I already helped the Ivankovs without even knowing it until you showed me what was really going on. They used me .”

There. I said it .

I wanted to say he used me. I should've known the fucked up whirlwind romance was too good to be true, built on Stockholm Syndrome from the very beginning. Like a good little slave, I'd trusted him, worked for him .

Nothing else. Anton really had used me , taken me for his pleasure, and then threw me back at my uncle like a poisoned dart .

How could I believe anything else? My insides were too turned out and fried to even think about pressing Gioulio about Club Duce again. It was hard to care if the men Anton killed in that bombing were bastards or not. It wouldn't change a thing .

I knew – knew beyond all reasonable doubt – that he was a demon for doing this. The same as his brothers, the same as his father for murdering my innocent mother. And, of course, the very same as the dark eyed man folding his hands and leaning in across from me .

“Brina, look at me. Don't make this about egos. I know I'm not. I'm going to keep loving you no matter how you feel about me, the same way Giovanni would've wanted. I hurt you. I kept secrets, hoping to keep you on my side. I know I can't do that anymore. I realize I fucked up .”

“You're right,” I said, pushing my heels together, getting ready to stand. “As soon as you tell me it's safe to leave this house, I'm gone. I'm taking every last penny he left me and going far, far away from all this. I'll send you a postcard from London or Paris or San Diego. I haven't decided yet. Or maybe I'll decide it's better we never speak again .”

Uncle Gioulio's face darkened. He cracked his knuckles. “All within your rights, niece. If that's what you'd really like to do, then I won't stop you .”

Too easy. Well, as easy as easy could be when my heart battered my ribcage, wanting to leap out, trying to kill the bitter, throbbing lump of pain it had become and take me with it .

“It's a shame. I can see the future laid out in front of me,” he said quietly. “Everything's going to pieces, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I'll send my boys after the Russians, but those bastards will have some idea what's coming when you don't pick up the burner phone I found in your purse and dial them up. We'll fight. We'll kill each other. I'll lose a few guys and kill more of theirs, maybe take out one of the brothers, if I'm lucky. Anton, that fucking roach, he'll get to me eventually. He's the most expendable one. The bastard's got a statewide manhunt on his ass, and he'll come screaming in for vengeance if I off Lev or Daniel first .”

He paused, shook his head. “So much blood's waiting. It's not like I haven't lived through it all before, but fuck, a guy shouldn't be dealing with this in his old age. I ought to be retiring, passing this shit down to somebody younger .”

The asshole looked at me. I knew exactly what he was thinking. No way .

Fuck no. I wanted absolutely no part of this insane business. I totally meant everything I said about packing up and putting as many miles between myself and Chicago as I could without heading all the way to Antarctica .

“You could make this easier, Brina .”

“I'm not helping you,” I snapped .

It was time to go, at least get out of this room and head upstairs. I stood, stomping my heels on the floor to relieve the pressure screaming through my body, heading for the door. My hand grabbed the cold steel handle and pulled .

The force nearly ripped my arm out of its socket. Uncle Gioulio was behind me, a gentle hand on my back .

“It's locked. Here, let me.” He took his sweet time reaching for the keys in his pocket. “I'm not the one asking you for a favor, niece. Yeah, I'm the dirty bastard down here whispering in your ear, but these aren't my words .”

What? I looked at him cautiously, wondering if reliving all this trauma had driven him insane. I couldn't be sure I was going to walk out of this room with all my marbles still intact .

“Who is it?” I asked, cringing as I did, knowing I didn't really want to know but couldn't help myself. “If it's not you talking, then who ?”

Uncle Gioulio hesitated, jingling the keys in one hand. “Your parents .”

Rage shot through me. He saw me twitch, broke eye contact, and pushed the key into the lock .

“Fuck you, uncle,” I growled. “Mama and papa would've wanted me to get away from all this. Not bury myself deeper .”

I was out. He didn't follow me, but the deep, dim lit staircase had some really strange acoustics. If I wasn't scared to death of falling backwards and breaking my neck, I would've taken my hands off the old railing and covered my ears when he yelled after me, drowning out his hateful voice .

“The only voices screaming at us here are two of our flesh and blood! I tried to be nice, I tried to show you, Brina. I tried to press on, even when you were breaking my heart, and you're still so fucking blind. You're going to let the Ivankov brothers walk with our blood on their hands. I see it now. I was wrong about you, niece – so wrong it's killing me. You're a coward !”

No! I couldn't listen to this anymore .

I ran like a madwoman up the stairs, snarling and climbing, punching through the door and clawing at the smooth floor when I was finally through. I ran past the two goons who looked up with concern when they saw me coming. They wouldn't pursue unless Uncle Gioulio told them to .

I headed straight for the guest room and turned the locks. Part of me wanted to get a driver and return to my condo, but I was just as much a prisoner there as I was here. I wouldn't be away from his evil influence until I was out of the city .

Even then, I wondered if I'd ever be free. The deafening beat in my head drummed me to sleep, echoing with the last shot he fired into me, showing me his true face .

Coward. Coward. Coward !

I hated him so much. But in the darkness, I hated Anton even more. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw myself bracing for his sickening touch. Sex brought us close, gave me an opportunity to use him the same way he'd used me .

The weapon I dreamed about was always different. Sometimes it was a handgun, which I picked up, pressed to his rock hard chest, and fired. Other times, it my uncle's switchblade, and I slid it across the Russian's throat when he tried to give me one of those heart stopping kisses .

Up until then, I'd never truly wanted to kill a human being with such gruesome need. Guess it ran in the blood .

When I woke up, something like a bad hangover fogged my brain, I told myself I'd never let my uncle call me a coward again. He'd never get to speak for my poor dead parents either .

He'd get his blood war, his vengance, and then he'd never get anything from me again. The bastard was right – there was no leaving and getting on with my life until I knew the men who'd used me and betrayed me were destroyed .

I was going to kill Anton Ivankov, and both his psycho brothers too, if luck was kind .

* * *

H is goons gave me the evil eye the next day. Still, they didn't stop me from knocking at the door to his study .

Uncle Gioulio's kinder eyes met me as soon as he opened the door. Overnight, his Hyde retreated back into his inner Jekyll, and now he was playing the kindly old uncle again .

“Brina, listen, I've got to apologize for last –“

“No need. I'm not here for your sympathy.” I pushed my way past him, taking a seat in the big leather chair across from his desk .

“I meant everything I said yesterday evening. I'm going to take my inheritance and leave this city. As uncle and niece, we're done. We're not family anymore .”

Pain throbbed in my heart just to say it, but only for an instant. What little respect and love I had left for my uncle died last night. But you can't stop loving anyone completely all at once – unless you start hating them instead .

And right now, that's all that kept me moving .

Uncle Gioulio's face dropped to the ground as he sat. “What is it you want? You're facing me for a reason .”

“Before I leave and try to forget about all this, I want to do right by this family, the ones who're gone. You're right. This isn't about you and I. This is about mama and papa. I want them avenged just as badly as you do .”

We locked eyes. He never smiled, but I could see the satisfaction glowing in his face, a beacon in the darkness .

Uncle Gioulio stood, walked over to his liquor cabinet. Seriously? A celebratory drink this early was way too weird for my taste .

I was about to tell him to hold it right there while he was pushing bottles aside. Then he stopped, grabbed a small glass flask filled with some clear fluid, vodka or gin, and what looked like a silver needle inside, and walked back to me .

“This is the best way to kill them. The Ivankovs won't be able to resist a drink if they think you've got me by the balls.” He pushed it into my outstretched hands .

The glass was cool. The transparent stuff inside it sloshed around like any other vodka I'd seen, clear and unassuming .

“One little drop of that and they won't know what hit 'em. It's a kinder, swifter death than the bastards ever gave Gio and Allison. It'll do the job just the same .”

My fingers tightened around it, full of evil wonder. I carefully pushed it into my purse, making sure it found a safe spot .

“You'll always be a Ligiotti, niece. You can hate me until your last breath, and I won't blame you, but you know blood and heartache, just as I do. Take it. Slip it to them carefully. Cut the chains that'll try to hold you here forever. Avenge them the way I couldn't .”

I couldn't stop him from embracing me one more time. There wasn't a hint of warmth and I almost shivered in his arms. When I pulled away, Uncle Gioulio was still looking at me with those sad, knowing eyes, a thousand thanks whirling in his dark pupils .

We'd never be family again in the proper sense, but we had ourselves an understanding .

I spent another twenty minutes with him and his guys, talking about the logistics of how I'd get back to the Ivankov's estate without drawing suspicion. He gave me a tattered white coat – the same rumpled one that belonged to mama the night she was struck down – and I was on my way .

Anton tricked me, used me, sent me to sabotage my uncle for nothing but his own disgusting gain. His poison was love and lust, and now it mutated in my veins, becoming as bitter and intoxicating as the toxin stowed in my bag .

I was returning to him as a weapon. I'd deceive him the same way he wrecked me with his lies .

It was time for the bastard to pay .