Page 84 of Crimson Fate

“Then why not kill me now?” I ask.

He sighs as if irritated by the question. “Because not only do I plan to take over the family but I also plan to take every last penny owed to me.”

“Owed to you? What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, not hiding my confusion.

“Of course, you have no clue about your father’s promises to me,” Anthony grunts. “Did you ever think that maybe that’s because he didn’t trust his own son?”

“You’re a fucking liar. Why should I believe anything you say?”

Anthony’s voice is sharp and bitter. “Your father owed me a debt. He made promises he couldn’t keep. But don’t worry, I plan to collect.”

“What are you talking about?” I demand again.

“Before your father made me captain, I was his fixer. I dealt with all the threats he didn’t want to get his hands dirty with. Fuck, I was the one who took care of the situation with the Ivanov kid.”

“You started the fire that burned Alexei’s brother?” I gasped, shocked by the revelation.

“I did a lot more than that for your dad, and he promised I would become the underboss,” Anthony continues.

“Bullshit,” I scoff. “My dad would never hand you the crown.”

“I knew all his secrets,” Anthony announces, “including the ones that would cause the other capos in this family to want him dead.”

I shake my head. “My father would have never done anything to betray this family. This was his life.”

“Yeah, tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night, but your dad didn’t care who he hurt as long as he got what he wanted,” Anthony says, glaring at me.

I shake my head. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“Your dad has a safety deposit box with evidence on every major crime family in New York. Why do you think nobody ever fucked with him?” Anthony asks.

“He would have told me.”

“No! Are you not listening to me? He didn’t trust you or your sister.” Anthony grows more agitated with each passing moment of the conversation. “I knew it would only be a matter of time as you went through the estate before you learned about the box’s existence. Originally, I was going to have Gia marry you, and then when you met some tragic end, the ownership of the box would pass to her, but it looks like you’re just going to get it for me instead.”

“And why would I do that?” I snap as the realization settles over me of why Anthony sent his men away. If what he said actually exists, that kind of power in our world is priceless. He doesn’t want anyone else knowing of its existence.

I watch, helpless, as Anthony points the gun at Eva, who still sits unconscious and slumped over in the chair. “Because if you don’t,” Anthony continues, ignoring her, “I will kill your little girlfriend first.”

“Daddy, don’t,” Gia pleads, breaking her silence.

Rage boils up inside me. I step between Anthony and Eva. If the man is going to kill us all anyway, I would rather die taking him down and saving everyone else I care about. I lean on my toes, prepared to launch myself through the air, when I hear a voice shout to my left.

“Vincent, don’t!” Nico’s voice cuts through the haze of my fury. But I barely register the warning as I see him move—a blur of courage and reckless loyalty.

Nico lunges at Anthony, his arm outstretched, fingers grazing the butt of the gun. But Anthony is a viper, coiled and ready to strike. He steps back, and the weapon jerks to the side, the sound of the shot shattering the moment into fragments of chaos.

Nico cries out, his body jerking back as if yanked by an invisible string. He crumples to the floor, hands clutching at his stomach, dark red blossoming across his shirt like a nightmarish rose.

“NO!” My scream is primal, torn from the depths of despair. I’m at his side in an instant, my hands trembling as I try to stem the flow of blood.

“What the fuck have you done?” I shout as I press down on Nico’s wound.

Nico’s eyes are wide, shock etched into his features as he stares up at me, trying to form words that won’t come.

“Dad, that’s Nico! How could you?” A moment later, Gia’s on her knees beside me, watching my futile attempt to stop the bleeding. Her eyes, wide with terror, are locked onto her father as she begs for mercy.

“He was our fucking driver, Gia. You’ll get over it,” Anthony huffs as he stands over us, gun still smoking, his eyes as cold as the ocean’s depths.

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