Page 86 of Fierce Monarch

Admittedly, it felt shitty to celebrate life when someone had just died, but Mama Ophelia had made that choice for herself. I had to believe that.

“Sounds great, baby. I’ll get the popcorn.”

In minutes, I was plopped between them on the couch, popcorn in hand and bickering over which movie to watch.

“We’re not watching some B-list mafia movie when that’s our entire life.” Grey rolled his eyes, and Dominic mimicked him back like a child.

“What’s wrong, Andrews? Worried you’re doing it wrong?”

“Oh, fuck off.” Greyson threw a pillow, and the two of them laughed.

“Are you going to start a naked pillow fight like at a real sleepover? If so, I want to be the judge.” I grinned, leaning back so I could have the best view. Both their eyes darkened, and like they planned it, each of them dropped a hand on my thigh.

“If you want us naked, baby, all you’ve got to do is ask.” Dominic leaned in for a kiss, but the shrill tone of my phone cut him off. “Motherfucking cocksucker.”

He leaned back and snatched it off the coffee table where we’d thrown all our devices in hopes of a quiet evening, scowling at the display. “It’s Cameron.”

Grey sighed, sitting back. “If it were anyone else, I’d say we could play, but he could have news about Joaquin.”

Ah, yes. My asshole uncle who’d been planning my demise as boss bitch of the Marcosas. Couldn’t wait for that update.

“We’ll play after.”

Dominic grinned, slipping off the couch and putting his big body between my legs. “Better hurry, mariposa. I’m getting hungry, and I’m not sure I can wait to start the feast.”

Hell yes.

I lifted the phone to my ear, wondering how fast I could get my cousin off the phone so our evening could continue. “Yeah?”

“There’s a fire!”

For a second, I was paralyzed, then I shoved Dominic out of the way and ran for the nearest shoes I could find, smashing my finger into the speakerphone icon. “What?”

“The Aces set my house on fire. Mari—” My cousin’s voice broke, something like desperation and resignation soaking into it. “Ash and I are inside.”

No. I stilled with one boot tied and the other’s laces wrapped around my ankle. This wasn’t the time for slip-on sneakers. Thankfully, the boys were hot on my heels as I worked the laces into the boot, shoving their feet into shoes and grabbing guns, all while barking down the phone at people. “Excuse me?”

“I was outside when I saw them running away like cowards, and I knew she’d be asleep. I went in for her, but we got trapped.” He paused, and I could hear the crackle of flames through the speaker. “I can’t get us out, Mari.”

Snapping out the address to the boys, I grabbed a gun and bolted for the elevator. “Why did you do that?”

“Because she’s my wife.” That was it, and really, there was no other reason needed. Ash was his, no matter what. Of course he went after her. Fuck.

“Cameron Marcosa, if you die?—”

The call dropped before I could finish, and I felt the screen crack under my unforgiving hand. Grey replaced it with his, and I dialed up a number I’d never used before.

“Chief McDaniels, it’s Marianna Marcosa.” Yes, I had the fire chief’s personal number, and I damn well used it. He promised to be there right after us, and I hung up as we raced to the car and through the silent streets of Seattle, but I wasn’t sure if we would be too late.

How far had the fire spread?

How long had Ash been inside?

Was she even alive?

Was Cameron?

A wave of grief tried to crush me, but I refused to entertain it. Until I was staring down at their bodies, we had time.

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