The headlights flood the road, casting long shadows across the pavement. The glare makes it impossible to see anything beyond the figures stepping out of the cars, but I don’t need to see their faces. I already know.
I feel it before I hear it: the shift in the air, the weight of this moment settling like a noose around my throat.
Princess goes rigid beside me, her breath coming in short, shaky pulls. I can feel her looking at me, but I don’t look back.
“Out of the fucking car!” my brother shouts.
Flinging the door open, I step out. Princess follows my move, and we both stand in front of my car. I keep my focus ahead.
On Emiliano. On Romiro. On the guns already raised, already aimed. Eli’s stance is relaxed, but the look in his eyes…
Cold. Calculated. Deadly.
“It’s over, Lucio.”
I clench my jaw. My hand inches toward my gun, but I don’t draw it. Not yet.
“Not happening!” I shout, refusing to back down.
Eli lets out a slow breath, like he’s exhausted by my stupidity. “You know how this ends. Give her up, and I’ll forgive this mistake.”
Princess flinches beside me, but she doesn’t say a word. Because she knows just as well as I do that there’s nothing to say.
I should have expected this. I should have known he’d come for me himself.
But he still doesn’t fucking get it.
I straighten, rolling my shoulders, keeping my hands loose at my sides.
“Forgive me?” I scoff. “Fuck off if you think I’m giving up on the only woman who actually cares about me.”
A muscle in Eli’s jaw twitches. His grip tightens on his gun.
“She’s the reason our mother is in a coffin, Lucio. In a fuckingcoffin. In a grave. Six feet under the fucking ground.”
The words slam into me like a bullet to the chest. My fingers twitch. My muscles coil tight…tight…too fucking tight.
And then I growl, “Don’t you dare put this on her.”
Eli’s eyes flash.
I step forward, my body taut, my teeth bared. “If it hadn’t been for your fucking issues with the Outfit, we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.”
A sharp breath punches through the air. Princess stiffens, but I keep my focus on Eli.
His expression doesn’t change. Not immediately. But I see it.
The hesitation. The moment of pause. Because he knows I’m right. His beef with the Outfit goes back years, and this attack…this wasn’t just about her.
This was about us. About power. About a war that’s been brewing long before she ever stepped into my life.
And yet he’s putting it on her. Like she was the fucking match that started the fire.
Bullshit.
I breathe heavily, my hands curling into fists at my sides. The air is so goddamn thick, it could snap.
Romiro shifts, his gun still raised, his eyes flicking between us. “Eli?”