Page 24 of The Players

“Ancient history,” Vince said, scanning the crowd.

“Morelli’s wedding to my brother’s girl I told you about,” Sy explained. “She ditched him to be the wife of a rich man. I suggested to go to the wedding to give it some color. Color it red instead of all white with the rice throwing and shit. Hence, rice wedding.”

Vince sent Sy an annoyed look. Did he really have to tell this now? She was already a flight risk. Then again, everyone in their world knew about the animosity between Morelli and Viking. Carmen would have learned about it sooner or later.

To her credit, Carmen didn’t look scared or intimidated at all. Nope, his little gypsy just looked annoyed.

“Was that story supposed to scare me?” she asked.

“Take it any way you want,” Sy replied.

Sometimes Vince wanted to shove Sy in a closet to pull him out only when he was needed.

“Just stay away from Morelli and his wife,” Vince warned her. “Should you ever come across her, don’t engage. Chances of you ever coming between her and Viking are slim to none, but still, should you ever see them together, get out of the way.”

Sy scoffed. “That’s a long overdue cluster fuck meeting just waiting to happen. You don’t wanna become a casualty of that war.”

Carmen rolled her eyes and rose from her seat. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to powder my nose.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your nose.”

She plastered a smile on her face. “Obviously, I was too subtle. Please move your big frame so I can go to the toilet and take a piss. There? Better?”

Vince sighed. Carmen had yet to learn that it was going to take a lot more than that to rile up Sy.

Sy smiled. “Sure, hotness. All you gotta do is ask.”

After one more heated look, she scurried past him and headed off to the ladies’ room.

“Why are you trying to piss her off?” Vince asked.

“Ain’t it obvious? When she’s pissed, she forgets to be scared.”

And just like that, Vince was reminded why he was best friends with the ruthless bastard. Trust and loyalty, the invisible tether that somehow kept them together. They had met in the oddest place at the oddest time—a cemetery at dawn during a shootout. Morelli’s men had closed in on him. Funny thing was, they hadn’t even been after Vince but after his brother Gio. He didn’t think he’d make it until a big silver-haired guy came out of the fog like a ghost and had leveled the playing field. Sy had saved his life by risking his ass for a stranger. His reason? He didn’t like setups. Sy came from poverty and was just rising in the Bratva. Vince came from money but had lost everything when his father got murdered. They had just fit.

Ten years later, they were still standing together, having survived several near misses with death, shared countless women, and he couldn’t imagine his life without the surly bastard in it.

Speaking of bastards, he wondered when Morelli would show up. After all, that was the whole reason behind this setup. He didn’t like Carmen being here out in the open any more than she did. As soon as they had marked her as theirs in public, he was gonna put her under lock and key, so to speak. He knew he would have a fight on his hands, with her being used to her newly acquired freedom. No doubt she was going to see it as a way of him trying to control her. Which was partly true. But before he could start their new life together, he had to get through this Morelli deal.

He tensed when it was Keegan who walked up to their table, instead of Morelli. The Irish bastard was flanked by two bodyguards dressed in cheap suits.

“So, it’s true what they say,” Keegan snarled, looking in Carmen’s wake. “You two can’t get it up without sharing a woman.”

Sy stiffened beside him, but Vince knew he wouldn’t act on it. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to draw them out with that comment. Usually they weren’t stupid enough to do it on their turf, but if he’d learned anything about Keegan, it was that the man acted before he thought stuff through. It was how he ended up with four digits on one hand.

“Leave, before I cut off your other pinky,” Vince said. Irish Brian had cut off Keegan’s finger when he’d insulted him about the cross tattoo on his neck.

Keegan turned red. “What’s she like in the sack? The Caruso bitch? I’ve heard some wild stories about her.”

“Fucking leave. Now,” Sy growled.

The bloated idiot didn’t know it yet, but he’d practically signed his death sentence. The fucker probably believed he was safe inside a crowd. The only thing stopping Sy from murdering him on the spot was Kristoff. The Bloody Ones had a chain of command when it came to starting a war.

Keegan and his men laughed, then strolled to a table in the back. The asshole was trying to show he had no fear insulting the lion in its cave.

“He’s mine,” Sy said.

“You calling dibs on that piece of shit?”

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