Page 16 of Sardonic Burn

They took in children and turned them into killing machines. As soon as they turned eighteen, they fought a life and death match. Only the two boys survived and overtook the orphanage.

It took them years, but they found the founder of the orphanage and killed him. They took over the legal business the founder owned. After that, they continued raising assassins, though in a different manner. They didn’t force people and gave them choices.

Until a woman appeared.

Both men were in love with her.

And both were prepared to give everything to have her.

In the end, she chose one man, and the other one became enraged. As soon as he caught wind that the two were married and had two children, he slaughtered the woman.

A few years later, he had a family of his own.

The husband of the deceased woman sought revenge.

And that husband was my great-something-grandfather.

Ever since, the two families have been at war with each other. My family took over the oil business, whereas the De Santis chose to continue hotels, arts, and the chain of restaurants across the world.

But deep under that cover, we are nothing but paid assassins.

The connections are still strong, four generations after. We’re not as influential as the mafia, but we do arms dealing,too, and we have a strong client list who call us whenever there’s a contract to kill someone.

And the fact that it’s well-known in the underworld that there are two powerful families in New York and they still dared to step foot on our territory is either ignorant or stupid.

It’s a thin line between the two, and they seem to be jumping that line like a jump rope.

It’s not the first time someone’s tried this, either. It’s a lot of influence, money, and power, so it’s no wonder many people are greedy for it. They don’t understand that two generations ago, my grandfather and De Santis' head at the time reached an agreement.

If someone were to ever try to overtake New York again, the feud would stop for a moment and they would work together to take down the enemy.

“Oh, don’t tell me,” I groan. “You are thinking of invoking the treaty agreement? What is this? A medieval fantasy novel? Let’s just kill both parties and get it over with.”

“You think I want that? If I want to maintain my reputation, I’ll have to. We don’t know who we’re dealing with, their power, and just how far they are willing to go. For the time being, go home, and don’t do anything drastic. You’ve already taken out their heir, don’t provoke them further until this mess is cleaned up.”

By home, he means my penthouse in the city. It’s my safe space, and any assassination attempts were always stopped before they could reach my doorstep. I’ve been back at father’s manor for the holidays and can’t wait until I’ve returned to my little paradise.

I take a deep breath. “Okay. You’ll have a meeting with Henrick De Santis, I assume?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll come with.”

“No.”

“You shot that down pretty quickly,” I mumble. “Let me come. I’ll come either way. I’m just asking nicely.”

He rolls his eyes. “Only if you promise to behave.”

“When have I not behaved?”

He gives me a pointed look and glances at my wounded leg.

“Fine, I get your point.”

Father squints his eyes. “Do you? How the hell did he corner you like that?”

“No idea.” I hum. “It won’t happen again, though.”

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