ErosHelen arrives to take over with Cara. The two of them sit shoulder to shoulder in the living room drinking wine while Real Housewives shout at each other on the flat screen.I find Lycus downstairs. "Situation," I bark at him. I'm on edge, itching to find my enemies, but Cara's words keep playing through my head. This is fake, it's fake, it'll never be more than what it is.No matter what I want. No matter how I feel.Several of my captains and soldiers stand at attention, looking grim."Cameras got the shooting," Lycus reports. "We have the plates and we're running them now.""No need to wait for the results. It was the Italians." I look around and nobody argues. "Get a squad together. Reliable men, good men. I want you to lead them personally."Lycus nods sharply. "Consider it done. What's the target?""Burn Conti's house to the fucking ground."There's a long moment of silence. They stare at me, saying nothing, as the gravity of my orders falls on them.For years, residential
CaraOphelia stares around at the entryway to the Khazan mansion like she can't believe what she's seeing."I know," I say before she has a chance to speak. "It's a lot."She gapes at me. "A lot? It's more than a lot, it's like—this is some Marie Antoinette-level shit. Like pure opulence. Seriously, I'm waiting for a bunch of French peasants to come storming over the gate any minute. Holy wow, are those actual fish?" She walks over to the fountain and laughs. "Those are actual fish. In the floor. Inside the house.""The staff feeds them every day. They have names but I haven't learned them all yet." I point out a big goldfish lurking toward the bottom. "That's Sam.""Fish in the floor. And they have names." She sighs and rubs her face like she's waking up from something. "I didn't believe you, but now I've seen everything.""Come on, let's go out back. It's nice out for once." I take her through the living room where she pauses to stare at the paintings on the wall ("Is this a real Mo
CaraHelen comes down from the house. I introduce her to Phel, pour her some champagne, and listen to her stories about Eros and the other mafia guys. Most of them are funny, if a little violent, and Phel gets along with her perfectly."You know, Cara, I noticed something recently." Helen gives me a sidelong grin. "You and Eros haven't been talking much."I look down at my hands. "I don't know what you mean.""Come on, there's trouble. Is it stress from—" She stops herself, glancing at Phel. "You know, what happened?""That's not ominous," Phel says. "I know about the diner.""It's that and it's a lot more." I stretch my legs, sighing. "Things are complicated between us. You know, my ex-husband, the whole Italian thing, the divorce, the paperwork—""Paperwork?" Helen raises her eyebrows.I grimace. I shouldn't have said anything about that—we're still trying to keep it a secret. "Just stupid divorce stuff. He's been so busy with his, uh, business that it's like he doesn't live here."
ErosEvery muscle in my body groans with weariness.Days spent patrolling. Nights spent hunting. Every moment of every waking hour is accounted for. I've thrown myself into the war with the Italians with every ounce of my being, killing as many of their men as I can, ruthlessly taking the fight to their doorstep.I'm breaking myself to make them suffer.And I'm breaking the city too.The heat's on. The cops are out in force, threatening to bring us all down if we can't find a way to stop the violence.I still don't care."You've been single-minded lately, Eros." Mother walks beside me, her hands clasped behind her back. She wears a long black dress, flowing and loose, her hair pulled up and tucked under a broad-brimmed hat. We stroll through the flower garden on the far side of the house, away from where Cara visits with Helen and her friend, Ophelia."Our enemies are closing in, Mother." I glance up at the sky. "I have to admit, I worried about this exact situation. I stressed about
ErosThat night, I find Cara alone in our room. I pause in the doorway, studying her. She's in a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, her hair in a messy bun, a glass of wine held between both hands. She's watching TV and texting with someone—probably Ophelia.I smile to myself. I like that she made a friend, and a decent Greek girl from a friendly family. I hate that Cara's been stuck in here, but I'll admit that life has been easier ever since she gave up fighting me about the diner.Only things have been strained. We don't fight, but we don't talk, either. I crave the taste of her lips against mine, my fingers dimpling her soft skin, her moans hot in my ear. I want her legs wrapped around me and her skin flushing as she comes, hot and sweaty.Most of all, I want her. Purely her."Asteraki mu."She starts and looks over at me. "When did you get there?""A few minutes ago.""Are you creepily watching me?""Not creepily, but yes.""Seems creepy to me." She stretches and finishes her
Eros"My father was murdered ten years ago." I pace over to the windows, my back turned to her. "When he was killed, it felt like a hole had been ripped into my body, a wound that would never heal. I still feel that wound, even now. It drains me to this day, Cara. I wake up some mornings, thinking I'll speak to my father, go for a walk with him, go fishing in the lake, go out on the boats. But he's gone."I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I thought he was killed by a rival gang. Back then, it was mostly the Irish. I didn't learn the truth until one day, a week before I became lord of this family, I overheard my mother and Aunt Anissa crying with each other. It shocked me, the pain in my mother's voice, and the pain in my aunt's tone, the way they consoled each other. But what really broke me was when my mother said, I can't forgive him, Anissa. I won't ever forgive your husband for what he did to my Michael."Cara's breathing quickens. "Your uncle killed your father?"I nod
Cara"It's not me he wants, but a wife." I lean against the wall behind the diner, the wall where Hector came and found me over a week ago now.Phel smiles sadly. "Are you sure about that? He could've gotten a wife a long time ago if he really wanted. I mean, he's good looking, has lots of money, and he's a freaking Khazan. I bet there's a line around the block with women that would die to get hitched to all that.""Then he should've chosen one of them." I stare at the engagement ring. It looks so small and lost now that I'm not wearing the matched wedding band. I feel like I'm losing the thread of why we got involved together in the first place. "It wasn't about me, it was just, let's have babies, let's show my family I'm serious, and now I'm afraid we rushed into it."Phel's quiet for a moment. "Did you tell him all that?""I tried to, but he only glared and grunted at me.""That's basically him trying to communicate, but he's stuck in the Stone Age."I try not to laugh, but it's ha
CaraI stand in front of the big mirror at the vanity in my bathroom.Beautiful granite countertops. Gold framing around everything. Luxurious towels, fresh flowers, oil scent infusers. Everything gleaming, everything clean.Everything impersonal, distant, too perfect.I touch my face, drag a finger down my cheek. How did I end up here, in this place?My life was a nightmare with Christopher. This is infinitely better. I don't go to sleep wondering if my husband is going to hurt me each night. I still take birth control, but mostly because I'm afraid that if I stop, I'll get trapped.I don't want to feel like I'm in a cage.Not ever again.But this feels wrong too. I should want this place, want the comfort, the ease. I should be happy that I get to lie around the pool all day drinking champagne, chatting with Helen, walking along the lake, watching the sun rise and the sun set.I can go to work if I want to, but I don't have to.But I want more than to exist. I want to be something.