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CHAPTER TWO

MATIEO, 24 YEARS OLD

Six Weeks Earlier

I was born to reign over my father’s criminal empire.

No questions asked.

It was the reason I found myself parked at the library of St. Jean D’Arc School. D’Arc was unique, founded by four very determined women to help mafia children—especially daughters—find their footing in the world. But in the end, this school became so much more than they imagined.

Initially, the plan was to establish a boarding school for high school–aged kids, but there weren’t many families eager to send their children away from home so soon. Therefore, it was swiftly updated into a university with undergraduate and graduate classes, allowing students to earn the same degrees that most colleges offered.

But D’Arc went a step further, offering extra-curricular activities that weren’t taught at a normal university. After all, this school was founded by members of powerful crime families with illegally obtained money and was run and funded by families with connections to criminal empires. It was open to children of organized crime families, but also served as a chance to offer girls and women born to these families a fighting chance in an increasingly dark and scary world.

Many of us here at this school attended online classes for prestigious universities like Cambridge, Oxford, Yale, and Harvard while using St. Jean D’Arc’s top-of-the-line tech and its campus as a home base.

I’d been working on my final business and economics thesis that my Harvard advisor expected first thing tomorrow, a paper that would conclude my graduate studies, when my phone screen flashed with a text message nobody ever wanted to see.

Shooter At Yale University

The message flashing across the top of my lock screen brought the rhythm of my heart to a screeching halt before it resumed beating so hard it almost stole my breath.

“You okay, man?” Nikola’s voice yanked me out of my spiraling emotions and I shot to my feet, the screeching echo of the metal chair against the hardwood flooring filling the library.

“Hey, slow the fuck down,” he grunted behind me as I rushed through Jean D’Arc’s narrow halls. “What’s going on?” “Shooter at Yale.” Three words I never thought I’d say. “Francesca and Ari are there on campus.”

Why in the fuck didn’t I press them to continue their studies at St. Jean D’Arc where I could keep an eye on them? Francesca was working on finishing her undergrad and Arianna her graduate degree, and both wanted to experience a normal college life for their last year.

So much for that, and now because I hadn’t insisted, they might die on that fucking campus.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Isn’t it odd that this is happening during summer months when not too many kids are on campus?” Nikola’s question made sense, but I didn’t have any answers. “Almost as if it was… targeted.”

I started running, plowing through oblivious students as I rushed out of the building I’d been in and across the parking lot to get to my car. Nikola’s footsteps pounded behind me, and I knew there was nothing I could say to make him stay.

That was what made him and other legacies, the next generation, good friends. The best of friends in fact. Most of us had ties to the mafia in one way or another, and it was common for kids who grew up in similar circles to be grouped in the same housing. If you could call a four-story, fully armed, marble-and-stone mansion “housing.”

“You have your weapons?” he asked from behind me.

“I do.” They weren’t permitted on campus, but I kept them secure in my Range Rover’s built-in safe for emergencies like this. “And I think one of your shirts is still in the back seat.” I gave him an impatient once-over. “Put it on.”

He rolled his eyes. “Is that a requirement to rescue the girls?”

Nikola, who’d been working on his postgraduate studies, had this thing for going around shirtless or wearing muscle shirts, and while I didn’t give a shit what he did while on this campus, it would draw unwanted attention at Yale.

“Yes,” I gritted.

“Fine, fine.” His expression sombered, but there was a hint of excitement in his voice. The guy could be restless to the point of stirring trouble, much like his uncle Sasha.

“Let’s just stick to fucking him up before he gets anywhere near my sister and Ari,” I muttered, pressing the unlock button on my fob.

Hannah appeared as I was pulling the driver’s side door open, her face deathly pale.

“Must have gotten the same alert,” Nikola echoed my thoughts, making his way to the other side of the car.

“Are you going to Yale?” she puffed out, and I noticed the flush on her cheeks and throat. She must’ve run here. I nodded and buckled myself in as Nikola slid into the passenger seat. Before I could shut my door, she added, “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not,” I clipped. “My sister is there too.” Arianna Carter Morrelli.

The girl who, on my eighth birthday, kicked me in the balls and then broke my nose. The girl who could be so fucking sweet that I forgave her before our parents came rushing over at the sound of the commotion. As a thank-you for not ratting her out, she baked me cookies—Nutella, of course—and ate them with me, dipping them into ice cream while we watched The Polar Express.

In fucking October.

“I can’t have you hysterical,” I growled. “Stay here.”

But she was already opening the back door and sliding in. “I’m coming whether you like it or not, Matt.”

I fucking hated that nickname. The moment I came up with a nickname for Ari, Hannah had started calling me Matt. I've resented her for it ever since.

“Go sit tight with Penelope, Amara, and Skye,” I barked, hoping she’d take my advice and sit this one out with her dorm suitemates. “I can’t afford to have you distracting us with your theatrics while we handle this.”

She jutted her chin. “I’ll follow you in my own vehicle otherwise, and you know damn well my driving skills are… not as sophisticated as yours.”

Nikola shot me an exasperated look before glaring at Hannah over his shoulder.

“Just drive. This one’s like a mosquito. You can swat at her with all you got, but you’ll be no closer to getting rid of her.”

I swallowed my retort and slammed my door, my tires screeching as I sped from the parking lot. In the rearview, I caught Hannah flipping Nikola off.

“I don’t want you attracting attention when we get there, Hannah.” While Arianna was the sensible one, this twin had a flavor of theatrics to her personality. It drove me fucking nuts. “Why are you on D’Arc campus anyhow? You’re not taking any classes.”

She shrugged, pressing her lips tightly. I knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t spill.

A car cut me off as I turned at the intersection, and I pounded on the steering wheel, blasting the horn at the asshole. “Learn how to drive, fucker!” Nikola yelled out the window.

“Nikola, hack into Yale’s cameras,” I barked, interrupting his glaring at the other vehicle. He fished out his phone and got right to work while I wished the Morrelli twins were here.

As if she’d heard my thoughts, Hannah chimed in, “I could ask my brothers to—”

“No,” I cut her off, although her twin brothers were some of the best hackers we knew. “Besides, if I got a text, so did they.” Probably.

She pushed a frustrated hand through her hair, turning it into a wild mess.

“Mom’s going to lose it. I almost hope she hasn’t heard about this. And Dad…” She gripped her blonde strands. “There’s no way he’ll let Arianna stay on the Yale campus now.”

She was right about that, and the same was true for my sister.

“I’m in.” Nikola’s voice broke through the tension following Hannah’s anxious ramblings. “I’ve located them. They’re both in the main library. Crouched under a desk, but alive.”

A collective sigh filled the car’s interior. “Can you find the best way to get to the library?”

Hannah leaned over his shoulder, watching him tap furiously on his phone, when she muttered, “Fuck…” “What?”

“The cops are on campus and starting to set a perimeter around the school,” Nikola answered.

“Did they eliminate the shooter?”

“No,” Nikola grumbled, while a glance at the rearview mirror showed Hannah chewing on her fingernails. “What are the cops saying?” Hannah asked while Nikola listened to the audio from a police scanner.

“It doesn’t sound like the SWAT team even has his position,” he muttered, flicking me a worried look.

I slammed on the brakes as a driver two lengths ahead of us skidded out of control and came to a complete stop, their car engine smoking. I veered into the other lane and then pushed the gas pedal to the floor, passing it without a second glance.

Nikola twisted around and whistled. “Not bad, bro.”

I raced down the road, charging through traffic at an alarming speed.

“Who in the fuck taught you how to drive?” Hannah asked, and I knew without having to look at her that her nails were digging into the leather seats. “The point is to get there alive, Matt…” I shot her a glare in the rearview, and, seemingly remembering where we were and what we were on our way to do, she quickly corrected herself, “Matteo.”

Ignoring her, I focused on the road ahead. My sole objective was to get to Yale, where my baby sister was in danger. Where Ari was in danger.

When I said nothing, she continued, “She can’t—nothing can happen to her. She’s my other half.” She choked a sob. “This can’t be happening. She’s supposed to be my maid of honor and—”

“What? Scared your wedding board on P*******t will need altering?” Nikola mocked, sarcasm lacing his tone. “Have you picked out your best man yet, Matteo?”

I wasn’t in the mood to listen to anything marriage-related. Hannah and I… We had never been a thing, and we would never

be a thing. Ignoring his jab, I diverted the focus away from Hannah’s favorite subject. “Anything on the CCTV yet?”

“Pizda… Yebanaya suka…” Nikola let out a long string of curses in Russian and alarm shot through me. “What?” I barked. “What the fuck is going on?”

He lifted his blond head and his arctic blue eyes met mine before he answered. “The gunman was just spotted in the Sterling Memorial Library building on the same floor as Arianna and Francesca. The police are on their way there.”

Hannah let out a whimper, her usual resting bitch face twisted with agony. I couldn’t blame her—my fear was like a hot iron piercing my skin.

“How in the fuck was he able to get in there undetected by the cops?”

“It’s a huge campus,” Hannah grumbled. “And police resources are stretched thin, so it makes sense that their efficiency would suffer.”

I hated to admit it, but that actually made sense.

“Or he could be a Yale student. Which means…” Nikola stopped short. “He knows how to get from building to building undetected.”

I hit the wheel in frustration once more. This was the reason we didn’t want to let Francesca attend a college far from home, from me. I wanted her close to me at Jean D’Arc, but my sister, being the independent woman she was, insisted on spreading her wings. So she clung to Arianna, using her as a means to escape and have more freedom.

“They just had to take summer classes,” Hannah hissed. “And now—”

I didn’t comment, because we all knew they decided on a summer semester to adjust to the new campus and their surroundings in time for fall. It made sense at the time, but now…

A familiar sign appeared and I swerved off the road. Without bothering to slow down, I cut through the forest that surrounded the campus.

“What are you doing?” Hannah screamed, bouncing up and down on the seat as the Rover navigated over the rough terrain. “This is not the way into Yale.”

“If you wanted to go your way, you should have driven yourself,” I grunted, keeping control of both my temper and my vehicle. It’d never failed me before and it wouldn’t today.

“Honestly, Matteo, this attitude of yours is the reason Arianna stays away from me when you’re around.”

“Are you sure she isn’t using me as an excuse to get away from you?” The words were out before I could think better of it. Hannah scoffed. “Like hell. She wanted away from all mafia boys, but you in particular.”

I could feel Nikola’s gaze burning into the side of my head, but I ignored it.

Hannah always had a flair for the dramatics. Her twin knew it, and so did I. Ari and I got along just fine. We had an understanding that dated back almost two decades.

I stomped on the brake as we reached the edge of the woods, all my thoughts coming to a halt, and turned the engine off.

Reaching beneath the center console, I punched in the code and removed two guns from the safe, handing one to Nikola. “Stay here, Hannah.”

I jumped out of the car, then took off running. Nik shouted something about an exit on the south edge of the building that was no longer in use. If I could break into it, I’d be able to get to my sister and Ari.

The summer sun shone hotter than normal, fooling people into thinking it was just another summer’s day. No clue that

beyond the redbrick walls, students were hiding in terror, not knowing whether they’d live or die.

But I couldn’t think about the what-ifs right now. Instead, I focused on my plan for the shooter, how I could disarm him before he could do any more damage.

While Arianna was the quieter twin, she could still be a badass if the situation called for it.

Police cruisers surrounded the front and sides of the building, men in uniform pacing around in bulletproof gear. As predicted, the old emergency door on the south side of the building remained unguarded.

My loafers hit the ground as Nikola’s combat boots, the perfect combo for his black jeans and white T-shirt, pounded on the concrete behind me. Once we reached the door, I glanced over my shoulder, scanning our surroundings.

“I got your back,” he grumbled.

I pulled out my Swiss knife and got to work, thankful it took no time for the lock to click in release. I pushed the door open and shared a glance with one of my oldest friends, nodding once before pulling out my gun. I wasn’t playing hero. I just wanted to get the girls out of here.

I glanced inside and saw nothing but a deserted hallway, and the eeriness of it sent a tingle of awareness to the nape of my neck.

Footsteps silent, we crossed the dusty floors, further proof that these parts were rarely utilized. We were a few feet in when a bloodcurdling scream rang out.

Followed by a single gunshot.