Page 197 of Dance of Madness

Love,

-Nero

EPILOGUE

NERO

Three Months Later:

“Fight?”The Bull growls at Lorenzo Capulli, the Gaitano Mafia familycapothat we’ve just found guilty of trying to murder his boss rather than uphold a blood marker he signed ten years ago. “Orflight?”

The four of us still up on the dais lean slightly forward. I glance over and see Carmine tapping his fingers on the table in front of us. Nico, beside me, rolls his neck and cracks his knuckles. I know that's his “tell” that he’sdyingfor a cigarette.

Naomi’s busting his balls to quit, though, so I make a note to find his pack before he does and flush them when we end this thing.

Past The Bull’s empty seat next to me, The Stag watches in that utterly cool and—not gonna lie—kinda creepy way he has, juststaringlike a fucking psycho.

I twist my gaze back to watch as Lorenzo makes his choice.

He glances nervously to the mouth of the labyrinth, then swallows and looks back to the instruments of death laid out on the table.

“Fight,” he spits.

I grin.Good. I could use a little blood sport this evening.

The Bull nods, his shoulders bunching like he’s excited. I mean, to be fair, heis. I like blood and violence as much as the next guy, but The Bull fuckinglivesfor that shit. I’m pretty sure his dick gets hard when he punches motherfuckers in the face and breaks bones.

“Choose your weapon,” The Bull says. He’s doing an admirable job of keeping the excitement out of his voice. But I still catch the glint of glee.

Lorenzo’s eyes sweep over the chains, knives, hammers, swords, even the maces, before they finally stop.

“Those,” he says confidently, pointing.

My heart sinks.

No.

Fuckingno.

You prick, are you shitting me?

The fucking guy just pickeddueling pistols.

Goddamned.

Motherfucking.

Cock-sucking.

Dueling pistols.

The Bull cocks his head to the side. “You’re sure?”

Lorenzo grins. “Top ranked all-state New York marksman in high school, full scholarship to Colorado State on it, and I was pre-Olympic for the US team.” He lookssmug as fuckas he shrugs. “Yeah, I’ll stick with those, thanks.”

The Bull is still for a second. I can practically hear his jaw grinding. Finally, he exhales loudly and turns to glare up at the dais.

“Wolf,” he growls loudly.

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