Chapter Four

Kane’s POV

“Wait. What?” he asked. Of all the scenarios he’d gone through, he’d never imagined that. “Why me?”

Victor leaned closer until his hot breath was against my face. “Because you owe me.”

“Isn’t it in the agreement for you to send someone from your family while they send someone from theirs to raise the stake?” he asked desperately. Earlier, he’d done his best not to react when he’d heard about a marriage but this was a little too far. He could still remember the efforts and hoops he’d had to jump through before Victor had been ready to hear about any plans for peace. Marriage had never been a part of his original proposal; they were just seeking ways to mess him up more. He could hardly believe they’d been friends once—one higher in position than the other, but still friends. 

Victor shrugged. “I doubt if they’d notice anything. We can make up a story where you’re a distant relative, though. That’d work, right?”

“Victor,” he snarled. “I have no idea what your plan is, but doing this defeats the purpose of the whole truce. The Morenis would be mad if they discovered the deceit.”

“Then you’d better keep your mouth shut, right?”he laughed the mocking laugh Kane had become more acquainted with. “And if your wife finds out, don’t forget to shut her up too.” Then he jumped down from the table, looking back at the door to add, “Get cleaned up. We leave in an hour.”

Kane remained at the table for few more minutes before he also left the office. On the way to the room, he couldn’t help comparing his previous position with his new one. He’d gone from being the trusted right-hand man of the most powerful mafia in the US to someone that was being used as a source of entertainment. And all because of one mistake. That mistake had been in trusting the wrong person. 

He’d assumed he’d been helping her, giving her a home and chasing away her nightmares and horrible memories, but she’d only been using him. He’d made the mistake of seeing a female as a human capable of caring for anything beyond herself, and he’d paid heavily for it. 

In hindsight, Tina had approached him, not the other way around. She’d sneaked her way into his life and sneaked her way back out. He's been worried about her for days, until he was waylaid by Logan and some other enforcers and beaten to within an inch of his life. And that had been the start of 2 months of repetitive pain and torture. Apparently, he'd sold information about the gang on the black market and had been stupid enough to leave proof on the computer.

It had taken him two months of being strong and insisting on his innocence to finally give up and do all he could to attract death. It was at that point that Victor had finally believed that he'd been duped. But it had taken its toll; on his health, his pride, and his dignity. Nobody trusted a man who had been deceived by a woman. Especially since said female hadn't been glimpsed again. 

And while Victor had eventually given him and trusted him, Logan and the others involved had been convinced he'd spearheaded the theft and was only trying to manipulate them. So he wasn't allowed to leave the house without a guard, but he wasn't a part of them either. 

Victor's proposal could only mean two things. 'One, this is a chance to regain our trust and rebuild your name', and 'two, this is another woman who'd likely want to manipulate you; let's see how you handle it'. 

He’d been so fixated on the past that he arrived back at his quarters before he realized he was being followed. He removed his keys from his pockets, and then, without telegraphing his motion, jerked to his side just as a switchblade swiped against the door. He grabbed Logan’s wrist, squeezing until the blade dropped and then squeezing a bit more. 

Logan struggled, but he knew the moves of that body; he’d practically taught the kid all he knew about their life. At age 27, he couldn’t remember any life not being in the mafia. Logan, on the other hand, had been pulled into the web when he’d run away from home at 14 and landed at his feet, literally. That had been 9 years ago. 

When he stopped struggling, Kane pushed him into his room and he walked in after him. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” he asked, examining the blade that had just tried to kill him. 

The boy had jumped to his feet as soon as he was able, but seeing no way out except through him, he remained on the spot and folded his arms. 

“Why?” he asked him, his voice cold.

Logan glared back defiantly. “I don’t need a reason to kill you. You annoy me.”

He hid his flinch and resisted the urge to try to explain. He’d done that over and over, and it hadn't made a difference; rather, the blunk knife had only cut deeper.

“Logan,” he sighed, “you’re going to tell me what prompted you. You should have known it wasn’t possible, or did someone put you up to this?”

The young man flinched slightly, but Kane caught it. His next words were clearly a defense. “I don’t trust you not to mess up the meeting. You’ve become weak.”

“And you thought killing me was the answer?” He asked incredulously. Was this as a result of his job torturing men on a daily basis, or did the kid really want to see him dead?”

Logan's eyes burned with defiance. “Better dead than risking the whole operation.”

He grabbed Logan’s collar, and he shook him hard. “Listen to me, you idiot. I might have made mistakes, but I’m not the enemy. If you ever try something like this again, I won’t hesitate to put you down myself.”

Logan’s glare didn’t waver, but he didn’t reply. Kane shoved him away and turned towards the door. “Now we have less than an hour to go. Be ready.”