Page 29 of Riot

He lunged forward, gripping my wrist, and tried to pull me against him. His breath was hot and sour against my face. My stomach turned.

I shoved him back, hard, just as a voice echoed from the front entrance.

“Hello?! I’m here!”

It was Irina.

I jerked away from Avi like he was fire, breathing hard as he straightened his shirt and backed off like nothing had happened.

We both turned toward the sound of the door.

Irina stood in the foyer, her curly hair piled on her head, sunglasses perched on her nose, a Chanel purse on her arm. She looked casual, glowing, effortlessly free—like she had no idea what kind of madness she was walking into.

Avi plastered on a smile and strode toward her. “Hey, sis.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with daddy?”

I stayed silent, still trying to slow my pulse. My fingers curled into fists at my sides, still tingling from pushing Avi off.

The moment had passed.

But I knew it wouldn’t be the last time.

Chapter 8

HAVOC

I’ve been thinking.

Thinking too damn much.

This kind of thinking don’t happen in daylight—it brews in darkness. It sharpens itself in the corners of the room when nobody’s around and the only thing you can hear is your own heart beating like it’s got secrets it’s dying to tell.

And lately, I been having the same thought over and over:

I can’t bring the Kings down from the inside.

That shit would be suicide.

Too many eyes. Too many people willing to kiss Creed’s ring or take Riot’s word as gospel. They talk about brotherhood like it’s sacred, like blood washes sins clean. But I know better. I lived in the shadows of that family while they dined in the sun. I know their routines, their weak points, their arrogance.

But I also know that if I go sniffing around, trying to find cracks within the network—someone’s gonna snitch. Somebody’s gonna run back to Riot or Creed. And then it’s checkmate before I even move my first piece.

Nah.

If I’m gonna tear this empire apart, I need outsiders. People who ain’t blinded by loyalty. People with a reason to hate. People likeme—broken, cast out, forgotten.

Because that’s what I am.

Forgotten.

Even though I carry the same goddamn blood as them.

Even though the man they called a father—myfather—broke me in ways they never had to endure. That’s the part that twists the knife the deepest. Riot and Creed… they didn’t just take Silas’s crown. They tookmy justice.

They killed him.

Fast. Quiet. Painless.

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