Page 27 of His Son's Ex

“Then she should’ve known better than to act like a jealous debutante in a room full of predators.”

I step forward, the weight of my fury finally showing in my voice.

“You’re worried about Sarah’s reputation? Two of my men are dead.”

“Dead, Luca.”

“Because while you were too busy playing husband, I was cleaning up the fucking fallout.”

His mouth opens. Closes.

Nothing.

“She targeted Eva because she thought she could. Because you let her.”

“You didn’t defend your guest. You didn’t defend your name. So I had to.”

Luca swallows hard, his eyes down.

Good. Let him sit with it.

I’m no longer looking at him.

My gaze lifts—to the shattered glass, the blood on marble, the echo of gunfire still clinging to the air like smoke.

They dared.

They dared to spill blood on my turf. On my ground.

Not just a hit. A message. A test.

And now?

They’ve signed their own fucking death warrants.

I turn slowly, my jaw tight, my hands clenched.

I deal in blood.

I will find out who gave the order, who pulled the trigger, and who stood by thinking I’d let it slide.

And when I do?

There will be no negotiations.

No mercy.

Because this wasn’t just an attack.

It was a declaration of fucking war.

“Talk. Your miserable bastard.”

I stand in the middle of the dimly lit room, inhaling the thick stench of sweat, blood, and fear.

The air is heavy, pressing in like a second skin.

My shirt sleeves are rolled up to my elbows, old scars and fresh bruises on my knuckles.

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