Chapter 3

I forced down dinner. Every bite tasted like sawdust.

Afterward, Lorenzo showed up on the terrace with two freshly mixed drinks.

Two glasses of tequila packed with ice.

He handed one to Emily and pushed the other toward me.

Emily took a small sip and smiled at him.

"You know exactly what I like. Before a firefight, you need a stiff drink for courage!"

I stared at the tequila and felt the cold seep through the glass into my hand.

When I first came back to the family, before I'd seen what Emily was capable of, Lorenzo had promised to be a good brother and treat us both the same. Back then, he would shield me from scornful looks at dinner and comfort me on stormy nights, when I still felt like a stranger in that house. It all ended the day Emily threw herself down the stairs on purpose and, covered in blood, sobbed that I'd pushed her. The brother who'd promised to treat us equally wouldn't hear a word in my defense. He slapped me in front of everyone.

Even knowing he didn't trust me, I still trusted him back then.

Because whenever he came back from a job, the spoils always came in two identical sets.

But somewhere along the way, he started choosing both sets to suit Emily's tastes.

When Lorenzo saw me staring at my glass without touching it, his voice turned impatient. "Selena, what are you standing there for? Drink up. I mixed it just for you."

But he never took his eyes off Emily's cheeks, flushed pink from the alcohol.

I looked up at him and explained flatly, "Lorenzo, I was shot through the stomach. I can't drink hard liquor on ice."

A brief silence fell over the terrace.

Lorenzo frowned, as if searching his memory, then answered in a condescending tone, "Since when? I remember you drinking tequila at the bar last month.

"Besides, tonight's different. A little hard liquor won't hurt.

"Can you not be so fussy right now?"

I'd only drunk that tequila last month to keep him from swallowing poison an enemy had slipped into his glass.

Back then, Lorenzo's eyes had gone red as he told me he owed me his life. He promised I'd never have to touch another drop of hard liquor.

So much for a Don's promise. It hadn't even lasted a month.

Exhausted, I lowered my eyes, more grateful than ever that I'd changed my route to North Africa.

If I'd really gone to that hellhole of a border dock, I'd still have had to put up with their neglect and baseless accusations.

Before dawn the next morning, a shrill attack alarm tore through the quiet of the estate.

In the underground garage, I stood silently beside a concrete pillar, carrying my tactical backpack.

The firelight in the distance turned the armored car's paint bright red.

Lorenzo rolled down the window and snapped at me. "What are you waiting for?"

"There's no room left in the car."

My mother frowned at once.

"We're under attack, and our lives are on the line. Can't you just squeeze in?

"Emily faints at the sight of blood, so she has to lie down in the back. You'll just have to deal with it."

But in the spacious leather back seat, Emily and my mother were sprawled across the middle.

Lorenzo's two bodyguards had the seats on either side of them.

The front passenger seat was piled with several cases of Emily's jewelry and designer bags.

There wasn't even room for my feet.

Even if I forced my way in, I'd have to curl up on the floor mat like a stray dog.

"The car's overloaded."

"Then go find yourself a blast-resistant car in the garage. We're going."

I nodded and stepped back into the shadows.

"You go ahead. I'll..."

Before I could finish, Lorenzo floored it, and the armored car roared out of the garage.

A cloud of acrid exhaust washed over me, the stink turning my stomach.

I followed a familiar escape route, steered clear of the firefights, and made my way back to my safe house.

I went into the kitchen and tore open a pack of the cheapest military rations.

I forced it down with cold water.

The dry food scraped my throat and brought tears to my eyes.

But I chewed hard.

When I finished eating, I wiped down every weapon part until it was spotless.

The radio in my tactical vest buzzed nonstop. Lorenzo was sending voice orders one after another.

In the background were bursts of gunfire and Emily's delicate little shrieks.

"Selena, why aren't you at the bunker yet?

"Find a ride and get your ass over here now. Don't hold up the entire defense!"

For a second, I considered cutting the signal or brushing him off.

In the end, I said only two words into the mic. "Not coming."