Page 55 of Sweet Revenge

“It wouldn’t do me any good.” I’d thought about it. When Ma had grabbed Elisa, I’d wished it were me. But that wouldn’t work out well because I’d be relying on these guys to get me back before she killed me or locked me up somewhere where I couldn’t be found, and I’d always been the brains of this operation.

So why the fuck couldn’t I think now?

“Everything used to seem so black and white. Now it’s muddled,” Mikel said.

“Yep, black and white,” Vin agreed. “And covered in blood.”

“Black and white….” Something about those words sparked a thought that had been hovering on the edge of my consciousness. “That’s it.” I slapped my hand against my forehead like a character in a cartoon. “Of course! Black Rabbit!”

“Uh, Daemon, now’s not a really good time for you to start losing your shit. If you’re gonna start talking to imaginary friends, maybe wait until after we get your girl back.” Vin chuckled, but I could tell he was actually a little worried about me.

“No, dumbass. Black Rabbit is the code name for the mansion I bought right next door to the Petrov mansion,” I explained. “I bought it up when it was on the market last year for just such a reason as this.”

“In case Ma lost her fucking mind and you had to attack her house?” Mikel asked. They were both still confused.

I got up from the table and started walking, knowing my capos would need to hear this, too. “Not exactly. But I did buy it and built some tunnels and other shit in case we ever needed to get in and out of the mansion.”

“Wait—you bought that huge house next door and built tunnels under it?” Vin asked. We were standing in the warehouse now, drawing a crowd.

“Yeah. I got the idea from a documentary I saw about Pablo Escobar.” That got me blank stares. “Pablo Escobar? The Columbian drug lord?”

“Oh, that Pablo Escobar,” Vin muttered.

I shook my head. “That’s right. So we should be all set.”

“That sounds expensive.” Dezzy’s voice sounded a bit off, like he was still in a lot of pain. When he saw me turn and look at him, he cringed, thinking he’d spoken out of turn.

He had. “Well, some of you assholes spent your money on cars and girls. I spent mine on real estate. We make millions and millions of dollars each year. What the fuck did you think I was spending my cut on?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You got a few fancy cars. That and brass knuckles.” He grinned at me and chuckled, and for a moment it was just like old times.

Then it faded, and I glared at him. “Shut the fuck up, Dezzy. We’re still pissed at you.” He dropped his head in shame, as well he should. Turning back to the others, I said, “We’ll use the tunnels to bust into the mansion to save Elisa and take out Ma. Not necessarily kill her, but sure the fuck knock her down a few pegs. It’ll work. It has to.”

“Sounds good, Boss,” Vin said with a nod. “What do you want us to do?”

“Gather up our best twenty men—”

“And women!” Tilda interjected.

I might’ve laughed under other circumstances, but instead, I nodded and continued. “Get everyone a shotgun or two, and let’s go storm the fucking castle.”

“Do you think that will work?” Mikel was paraphrasing one of our favorite movies, so I did, too.

“We don’t need a fucking miracle, my brother. Let’s go get take our family back.”

CHAPTER33

ELISA

The cityscape outside the tinted windows of the SUV blurred as we flew through town. Part of that was because I’d been hit in the head with a pistol. The rest was because tears threatened to fall down my cheeks, and while I refused to cry in front of Lillian Petrov, that didn’t make it easy to see straight.

“Let’s crack open a bottle of that champagne.” She cackled next to me. The more time I spent with her, the more I realized she truly was a witch. Manipulative. Scheming. Murderous. What a vile human being.

Someone popped a cork on a bottle of bubbly, and I felt liquid splash against my leg as it obviously overflowed, but I didn’t turn my head away from the window. I had a feeling we were going back to the mansion, but I wanted to be sure.

When the champagne spilled, Lillian laughed again. Like a fucking hyena. “Hand it over,” she demanded. “I don’t need a glass.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her guzzling the champagne right out of the bottle while the men in the SUV laughed and cheered. Now that she was single again, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of these assholes thought they should be the next don. She was the most eligible bachelorette in town thanks to a bullet through my father’s skull.

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