Page 62 of Falling for the Enemy

With his salt and pepper hair, jowl-like cheeks, beady black eyes, and overall slimeball disposition, myexfuture father-in-law is easy to recognize.

His face beckons my demons forward.

How could it not when it was his calculated betrayal that threatened the two things I care for most? Mina, along with my empire.

Hell-bent on making him feel every ounce of pain he foolishly bestowed upon me, his black heart is one I yearn to slowly shred with a serrated knife, its blade slightly dull in order to maximize pain, but sharp enough to still carve flesh.

For what he’s done, he’ll die in agony.

The ending will be a fitting one for a man such as he, who because of his actions, I’ve spent months thirsting for revenge over the life-altering treachery he set in motion, leading to the murder of my childhood best friend.

A murder I committed.

Capone may have been a weak puppet unworthy of standing at my side, much less of sharing my bed, but he was also the only man I’ve ever come close to romantically caring for.

At least, heusedto be the only man.

Now?Nyet, not so much.

Alejandro hasn't made me fall in love with him, an impossibility when I’m incapable of such notions, but he’s inarguably reached parts of my imprisoned heart my ex had no chance of touching, much less filling with warmth and longing.

The fact is one I can no longer deny.

Not after I’ve spent the past six days craving his addictive touch and consuming presence, the emptiness that only abates when he’s near retaking hold.

The kingpin isruiningme.

Heart throbbing with the incessant ache that his absence has created—an absenceIcaused—I signal to Casper, letting him know how many men I see. He nods, then lifts his chin and gestures ahead, a silent demand for us to push forward.

I reply with a flick of my wrist.

And together, we move.

Reaching the edge of the shadows, I stop and crouch low once more. The impending battle numbs the pining that radiates throughout my chest, where it pulsates as if it possesses a heartbeat of its own.

Sweat beads along my nape as I count La Famiglia’s soldiers once more, gaze continuously sliding back to Stefano. Ten visible soldiers surround themudak. That’s six more than I have.

The realization puts me on edge.

My men are better trained and more equipped than La Famiglia’s, but being outnumbered is a situation I strive never to put us in.

This time, however, it couldn’t be helped.

Not when the intel we received from a loyal informant came mere minutes before Stefano was scheduled to be moved to a new location, giving me no time to gather the dozens of Kings I command, their positions scattered all over the far side of the city.

Regardless, it’s time we strike.

And strikedecisively.

Calmness descends, wrapping me in its comforting embrace as I watch Viktor and Ivan enter undetected through a back door. Guns in hand, they take position at the opposite end of the warehouse. When they signal the go-ahead, I ready my weapon and stand, steady aim trained on the soldier to the right of Stefano.

My finger hugs the trigger, tensing—

“Hello, Arianna.”

I freeze, the room falling silent.

Still encased in darkness, my dark form is impossible for anyone standing over three feet away to decipher. Yet Stefano knows I’m here. His raspy voice and mocking words are proof of that, making one thing clear.

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