Page 34 of God of War

Dad hesitates and then his eyes narrow. "I'm going to destroy his organization from the inside out using his own man against him."

I blink, my blood running cold. "What man?"

My dad smiles, a cold, vicious smile that sends a shiver ripping down my spine as he pats me on the head. "You don't need to worry about that,iníon. Just keep yourself far away from Nazario Leyva and let us worry about the details."

Niall meets my gaze, something glinting in his eyes that I don't understand. "Yes, keep yourself far away from Nazario," he says in a flat, emotionless voice that sends a chill racing through me. "Even his own people see him for the soulless monster he is. You don't want to end up caught in his trap."

He turns and walks away without another word, leaving me trembling in his wake. I know he was just trying to get a rise out of me…but the fact that one of Naz's own people is helping my family is terrifying.

Is Naz in danger? Am I?

Ha. Is that even a question? There's been nothing but danger since I dropped my books at his feet. And if there's danger now, it changes nothing.

Do his people really see him as a soulless monster?

A protest wells up from the depths of my soul at the thought. Naz is many things—dangerous, ruthless, brutal, a criminal, and a killer. Maybe he's even a monster. But he isn't soulless. Not even close.

Chapter Ten

Naz

"You need to make a move against him,príncipe," Nicolas argues. "If you don't, he will only grow bolder."

"Enough," I growl, throwing up my hand as my patience with him runs out. He's been hounding me about this for two goddamn days now. Ever since I informed him that Niall Sullivan had killed another of our men.

Brynna cried when she delivered that news in a hushed whisper over the phone the night I dropped her off at home. I'm mad as hell I couldn't pull her onto my lap and console her. I'm furious she feels guilt at all. This is not her fight, it's not her war. And yet, she feels obligated to try to end it anyway.

I don't know what the fuck Niall did with Josef's body, but we've yet to find it. That point isn't sitting well with Nicolas. He wants to strike.

But I can't. So long as Brynna is determined to stay in that house and try to end this peacefully, I won't risk her. With one of my own goddamn men aligned against me, I can't. It's too dangerous. I trust that her father won't hurt her. But a rat? Someone willing to betray his oaths? There's no telling what he's capable of doing.

But the moment she calls me and tells me she's done? The instant she's safely behind my walls? I'll do what the fuck I need to do. She won't be in the middle then. She'll be mine, under my protection. Safe. And I'll make damn sure everyone knows that I'll take any move against me as a direct threat to her.

They'll either heed my warning or suffer the consequences. Part of me hopes whoever the fuck is working against me is foolish enough to tempt fate. Part of me hopes her father is, too.

Because of him, she's there instead of in my arms, in my bed. I haven't had my hands on her gorgeous body, my fucking tongue on her tasty little asshole, my cock in her perfect cunt in two days.

I'm not a happy man.

"Butpríncipe…"

I slam my hand down on the desk, rattling a paperweight off the side. "I said enough!" I snap. "I'll make a move when I'm good and goddamn ready. Until then, shut the fuck up, and get back to work figuring out who the fuck is trying to rip this organization apart!"

Nicolas falls silent, frustration burning in his gaze as he stares at me. For a long moment, he says nothing. And then he mutters a curse. "Love has blinded you, Nazario."

"What did you say?" I snarl, gripping the edges of the desk to keep from launching myself across it.

"I'm sorry, príncipe," he says softly. "But the men are starting to talk. They think you've grown weak, that you're betraying your oaths and your people. Your organization is under attack, and you hesitate. Your people die, and you do nothing." Nicolas shakes his head, disappointment heavy in his gaze. "This isn't you."

"Get the fuck out," I say, my voice deathly calm.

"I'll go," he murmurs, holding up his hands. "But I'm merely the messenger. I want what's best for you. You know this."

"I said get the fuck out, Nicolas."

He sighs heavily, striding for the door.

As soon as it closes behind him, I grab the stapler, whipping it across the room. It slams into the wall, ripping a hole through the plaster.

---