Page 55 of The Merciless King

Which begs the question. How much time do I really have? If any.

Amy could be dead.

I feel bile rising in my throat knowing these men could be responsible for her suffering or even her death.

They are.

Whether directly or indirectly.

The temptation to pull out my gun and hold it against the temple of Frank Baldassare is so fucking huge, but despite my Marine Corps training and strength, I’d likely be dead in under thirty seconds.

The soldiers hovering around in every corner of the house would shoot without hesitation to protect their boss.

The rules are different within the walls of this compound.

Home.

It is a home.

Yet, not like many others in this country.

I’ve dined with them. I’ve fucked their daughter. I’m doing a faux business deal with them. It’s all so surreal.

“Don’t let it fuck with your head,” Decker told me. “You’re going to feel things you won’t want to. You might even like some of the men. Respect them even. Just know that it’s a survival instinct inside your mind. You have to departmentalize to do this work. Constantly remind yourself what is real. And what is not.”

Nathan had added his thoughts to the conversation. “He’s right. You can’t hate their guts while pretending to be in partnership with them. Or fucking his daughter. Actors do feel. That’s how they pull you into the lie. It’s the same thing going undercover.”

I’m starting to see what Decker meant. In less than a day, the lines are already blurring, but only when it comes to Gianna.

How he and Nathan did it for six damn years is beyond me. I’m sure they had a serious reason for it.

I push back the conversation and refocus on the three senior gangsters sitting in front of me.

Salvatore is quiet, listening and studying me.

“I have a proposal for you,” Frank says. “You need to understand this will mean an end to the relationship with my daughter.”

“If he agrees,” Salvatore adds.

“Either way.” Frank shrugs.

I keep my mouth shut. The urge to tell them that’s up to Gianna and me on the tip of my stupid tongue.

I need this deal to find Amy and yet the desire to keep Gianna as mine—when she is not—is tugging at me with a strength which makes no sense.

Christ, I need to stay focused.

So I nod. “I understand. But you need to let me tell Gianna. I do not want to hurt her.”

Dante sips his coffee. “From what I hear, you might not be alive by the end of the month if you don’t take our deal.”

He’s very unreadable.

“There are always deals.” I smile darkly.

“Your respect for Gianna impresses me, Braxton. Yet they are empty words, and soon she will marry into an Italian family affiliated with ours to build an alliance,” Frank says. “Now, let’s get on with the business.”

As I grind my teeth and try to hide my reaction, I realize I don’t need to. I should look fucked off.

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