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“Kill him,” I snarled. “Why don’t you fucking kill him? He’s a monster who hurts the innocent. Fucking kill him!”

Dante smiled at me, the action not meeting his eyes.

“If only it were so simple. He is well-protected. I can’t fucking access him. He has it set in such a way that if he’s killed, everything dies with him. That would likely include me since I’d be the one holding the weapon. Know what I mean?”

I tried to shift in my seat as we continued to stare at one another.

“So I’m in a bit of a predicament like you. I want him gone. Many do. But how?”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “I just want E freed…”

“I’m telling you because you’re my key, Fox. We’ve been working on a plan. I think we may have something. He won’t die, but then again, I really don’t want him to. Not right away. He deserves to suffer.” A wicked look washed over his face, sending shivers down my spine.

Dante Church was a madman. I’d seen only a lighter side to him, that much I knew.

He was the night to my Rosie’s day.

The door creaked open and more heavy footsteps sounded out. Asylum stepped into my view.

He leaned down and said something into Dante’s ear before Dante gave a slight nod of his head.

Asylum winked and took a step away to put a small amount of space between him and Dante, who was still in the chair in front of me.

“Matteo De Santis,” Asylum said, clipping each word before clicking his tongue. “Uncle Matty to you.”

I eyed him wearily.

“You know you’re never going to play football again,” Asylum continued, nodding to my fucked up shoulder. “Game’s over, so to speak.”

I swallowed hard at his words, a tiny part of my heart shattering. I knew it was unlikely I’d play again. The ache from the bullet was too real to be something I’d get over anytime soon.

“The life you once had is over. Fox Evans was on his deathbed the night of the engagement party,” he continued. “Little dead Fox, praying for a way out. Ran through the crowd and gave a shout. Rosalie, Rosalie, my love, I need you. Alas, poor Foxy, had no clue. It was his last night alive. And now in the underground he must survive.”

“Not your best work,” Dante muttered.

“I’m a bit tired,” Asylum replied, cocking his head, a faraway look in his eyes. “I know. I know. I’m going to tell him if you’d shut the fuck up for a minute. No. No. I said I fucking would.”

I glanced from Asylum to Church, who was still an emotionless robot.

Apparently, Asylum heard voices. Great.

“As I was saying.” Asylum cleared his throat. “I want to remind you that you have the tools for survival.”

“What?” I frowned.

“You see, Foxy boy, you and I are far more alike than we are different. We share DNA and all that.”

“What?” I repeated, shaking my head. I couldn’t figure out if this was more of their psychological torture. “What are you even talking about?”

“Franco De Santis is my father,” Asylum said. “Frank.He’s Gino’s son. Uncle Gino is Carmine’s brother. Your granddad, Carmine.”

I had no idea what he was going on about. Just because my father was a De Santis didn’t mean I knew the whole fucking family tree.

Asylum chuckled. “I’m aware you don’t know the family tree. I’m only giving backstory. Heaven forbid a guy have a fucking hobby.”

“Ancestry is your hobby?” Dante asked dryly.

“Oh, what? Like killing small rodents in the woods is a better one?” He rolled his eyes at Dante. “My therapist said I needed to stop removing people’s eyes with my fork. I’d say ancestry is a pretty fucking good side hobby if I’m trying to fit into societal standards.”