CHAPTER TWENTY

Dante

“WELL YOU LOOK like complete shit,” Chase said as he took a sip of coffee.

“And you look like you got laid,” I fired back.

He choked on his coffee while I stared at the counter. “Tell me you disinfected every single area on this side of the kitchen.”

Chase’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me you didn’t watch me give my wife a—”

I held up my hands. “I didn’t see, I heard.”

“Whole damn house heard.” Nixon glared from his spot on the table, I hadn’t even noticed him. “And Trace already disinfected all spaces that could have seen and or touched Chase’s penis.”

“Thank God.”

Chase smirked. “I know she did when I—”

“Not before breakfast,” Nixon interrupted while I pulled out a chair at the table and started piling my plate high full of eggs, bacon, and toast.

“So,” Nixon scooted a mug toward me and filled it high with pure black goodness. “You ready for today?”

I shrugged. “Not really sure what I’m ready for… since you guys won’t tell me shit.”

Chase sat down on my other side. “Think of it like this, those guys run the school, but it’s more than that. If it was just some pricks with power trips we’d be okay with it — we, being the Abandonatos, since we own the school.”

“But they’re clearly killing students for shits and giggles,” I said over the steam billowing out of my cup. “And clearly they’re related to Petrov.”

“Andrei is his last remaining son — twenty-one, enrolled the minute he found out that we killed his informant, Xavier.”

El’s ex-husband.

Tyrant.

Idiot.

I balled my hands into tight fists as my blood roared for justice.

“It’s not just that,” Nixon re-filled his coffee cup. “They’re trying to make a show that the Italians are out — they’re trying to build up their own sad pathetic little Chicago gang, just like the one in New York.”

“Shit.” I suddenly wasn’t so hungry. “That’s… great news.”

“Most of Petrov’s money was seized during the FBI raid last year. Nikolai helped us rain hell and they’ve sworn retribution ever since. Up until now they’ve lacked the money to do it,” Chase chimed in. “And yet somehow, operations started again on the East Coast, they’re selling anything and everything, getting in large shipments from Mexico and Canada and here’s the really fun part, they’re distributing to the student body.”

A headache pulse behind my ears. “So they’ve continued operations even though there technically is no leader except for a twenty-one-year-old shit that thinks he can build his own army by giving people free drugs and putting students who aren’t tough enough in body bags? Did I miss anything?”

Nixon shrugged like it was a normal Tuesday. “It’s all the intel we have.”

Chase stood. “It’s our city.”

“Damn right it is.” Nixon swore. “I want them wiped out.”

My eyebrows shot up. “And when you say wiped out—”

“Let me be very clear.” Nixon’s nostrils flared. “I would like you to infiltrate their pathetic little gang, gain their trust, do whatever you have to do like you did last night and pick them off one by fucking one. Got it?”

I shrugged and took a long sip of coffee. “Consider it done.”

Nixon hung his head then sat back into his chair like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, then again as boss, he probably did.

It was why I never wanted the job.

Why I was pissed that I was even up for it.

Because the only reason I was back in Chicago was to be groomed to take over the family that my father should have taken over — but didn’t.

The Alferos.

My name said Nicolasi.

Just like my father’s name said Nicolasi.

But before he was ever part of that crime family.

He and his brother Frank, led the Alferos.

They were in love with the same woman.

And because Frank messed up in the biggest way possible — he gave his wife up — to his brother, the woman he loved.

And when you love someone, kids soon follow, right?

Disgusted I shoved my plate of food away. “What about El?”

Nixon frowned. “What about her?”

“She’s at school, she’s going to know something’s going on.”

“She’s smart.” Nixon nodded slowly. “So your best bet, is to make sure that when it comes to picking sides — she’s on ours.”

“How long until someone…” I couldn’t even get it out. “Until Phoenix finds someone—”

“This week,” Chase interrupted. “We’re getting a little visit from our favorite cousins, yay,” his words dripped with sarcasm. “Look, it blows that we have to do it this way, but that’s the mafia, she either goes back to the Russians and dies, or stays under our protection and marries someone who will at least let her live her life.”

“That’s not life.” I clenched my teeth.

“No,” Nixon said after a pause. “But it’s the best we can do.”