Page 100 of Fierce Monarch

As I speared Joaquin with a glare, that stupid I won smirk finally dropped. “What?”

“Cameron almost died last night. He’s in the burn unit right now. Did you know that?”

He mouthed the word burned like he’d never heard it before. His fists clenched on the table, and his neck reddened with anger. Even I would have believed the performance if I hadn’t known better.

Were all Marcosas born good liars, or did we learn it at our fathers’ knees?

“How?”

“His house burned down.”

“His house,” he repeated.

“Does this room have an echo?” I asked, turning to catch Dominic’s eyes. He smirked but said nothing, too focused on my idiotic uncle to play. Too bad. I was just getting started.

Joaquin glared down at the table, much like I had. “I thought he was staying at the Celestine.”

“No. Someone burned down his house with his wife inside.”

That got me a scowl. “The O’Bannon girl. Is that what this is about? Your little bestie got hurt, and now you’re coming after us?”

My other uncles shifted in their seats, knowing that his flippant attitude pissed me off on a good day. They were right to be nervous, but I forced myself not to do anything yet. I had to stay cool and level for a little bit longer.

I dragged in a deep, dejected breath, like this was the last thing I wanted to be doing. “No, this is about you, me, and something I should have ended a long time ago.”

A spark popped up on his face like he’d won something, and I knew exactly what it was. He thought I was giving up. That this attack on Ash was the last straw for my fragile mind. He thought, as I suspected he always had deep down, that I was too emotional to run the Marcosa empire. That I was too weak to do what had to be done.

What a joy it was knowing he was going to be the example proving just the opposite.

“It’s obvious that I’ve been too lenient with you. Too sentimental. I let things stand, hoping you would see the error of your ways and back me in earnest, as you should have from the beginning. That was my mistake. I hope this corrects that oversight.”

The shot rang out before anyone recognized that not only did I have a gun, I’d pulled the trigger. Blood trickled down Joaquin’s forehead as he slumped to the table with a hard thump.

There were no last words or second chances for someone like Joaquin. There was only death and the coldness of the grave.

For a moment, I didn’t think any of my uncles even breathed.

“I assume you had a reason for that,” Mathias drawled.

“You mean besides him giving out his son’s address so the Aces could burn him alive and send us into war with O’Bannon as well as Cash? No.”

It didn’t take a genius to know he didn’t appreciate my sarcasm. “Do you have proof of this?”

“Only three people knew the address: Cameron, Joaquin, and me. I doubt Cameron would willingly allow himself or his wife to burn, do you? Not to mention the hours that my cousin’s been surveilling his father acting against the good of the Marcosa family and me as its head.”

Emotions flitted across all three of my uncles’ faces, from fear and anger to disbelief and, finally, begrudging acceptance. “We understand the reason he died, but did it have to be so public?”

Only they would consider a handful of men a public execution.

“Considering your recent conversations, it seemed like you’d forgotten my latest warning. It felt necessary to reiterate it in a way you couldn’t misinterpret.” They all shifted again, small tells giving away their discomfort, and I laid my gun on the table in plain sight. “I will not tolerate dissent, especially if that dissent involves our enemies. A betrayal that large only ends one way—death. This family is mine until the day I die. If you have a problem with that, tell me now, and I’ll end all of our misery before it begins. Any takers?”

My men were motionless, but I could feel their restlessness as we all gauged what would happen with my remaining capos. Would they bend the knee and put any thoughts of usurping my throne to rest for good, or would we be hauling out more bodies than one?

There was nothing but silence, and I let out a slow, relieved breath. “Good. If I have even a moment of doubt about your loyalties, I will throw you out with tomorrow’s trash. Understood?”

They all muttered agreements, while their eyes focused on anything but the spreading bloodstain on the table. “Get out.”

Leonardo and Mathias walked out with uneasy, respectful nods, but Gabriele stayed in his seat. When it was just the four of us and the body, he sighed. “I worried you’d let him go too long.”

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