Sam Barone.
I mutter a curse under my breath. It’s been years since I’ve spoken to him. Whatever he wants, it won’t be small.
I hold up a finger to hush my boys and answer.
“Samuel Barone. What—”
He cuts me off. “Don’t have much time to chat. My sister filled me in. So far? Not impressed. But Gabriella’s got a soft spot foryour club, for whatever reason. I’m staying out of it—for now. She’s already called in Bellamy Church-Petrov. They’re working on containing this clusterfuck. My niece and nephew, Sebastian and Sarafina, are also handling their part. Something that’s been bleeding both our families.”
Bellamy Church-Petrov.
I know that damn name, but I don’t have time to dig through the cobwebs of my memory. Each word Sam drops is another weight on my chest.
Sam Barone might be young, but he’s a different breed. Colder. Smarter. They call himLa Mortefor a reason. I’ve never seen him work, but I’ve heard the aftermath.
Still, I’m no man’s pawn.
His tone softens—barely. “If I thought Gabriella or the kids would be in danger, I wouldn’t have let them come. But they’re there now, and they’ll clean it up. This is a mess my father should’ve dealt with years ago. And yes, we know the Satan’s Keepers have had eyes on your territory for just as long.”
I stiffen. “What thefuckdo the Keepers have to do with this? Gabriella mentioned them, yeah, but also the Salvatores? Why now? Why this deep?”
Sam’s quiet laugh pisses me off more than his words. “You’re not gonna like this, Brick, but here it is. But first, I will apologize for my nephew getting a little trigger-happy with your son’sputtana. Gabriella and Armand filled me in. I will talk to him.” He says, pausing. “The Salvatores have been working with the Keepers for a while. We’ve kept tabs on them—not close enough, apparently. That’s on us. Their motive used to be business.Now? It’s personal. Because of your wife and some other history between the clubs.”
My heart slows. My spine locks.
“What do you mean,because of my wife?” I ask low, cold.
Ignoring the other shit about our club's history, because that’s just what it is history.
Sam keeps going. “Your wife’s mistake… made it personal for Don Salvatore. Again, not my story to tell. Talk to your wife, Brick. You know the Keepers have always wanted your land, your routes. They’ve only ever been bold enough to make a move once before. You handled them, and you can handle them now. Just know that now it’s going to be more… difficult because they’ve got backing. And if you don’t find the mole fast, theywillmove on your club.”
He lets that sink in before continuing.
“My shipments are getting delayed. I’m losing money. And I don’t like losing money. Gabriella is handling her side. You need to get yours under control. Listen to her. She’s not your enemy.”
I grit my teeth so hard my jaw pops. “It’s because of my respect for your father that I’m not flying down there to put two slugs in your chest,Barone. You should’ve warned us. My son could’ve died tonight. And all I get are half-assed stories and cryptic riddles.”
I take a breath. Reel myself back.
“That club knows damn well we’llneverbow. I won’t. Talon won’t. We crushed their last attempt and buried their old Prez. But now they’re coming harder. What are you not saying?”
He sighs again, quieter this time. “I get it. I do. And for not warning you, Iamsorry. Yes—the Keepers tried to kill your son. And yes, your wife’s past is part of the reason. Don Salvatore wants her tosuffer. Says she cost him something… his father. There’s a blood debt in play, and we don’t get to decide how that plays out.”
I stop pacing. The weight of those words nearly buckles me.Vera...
I hear a chair scrape and Sam curse.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Brick,” he says darkly. “We’ve had eyes on the Salvatores for a while, for reasons unrelated to this. And we’ll handle them. But Gabriella’s involvement? That’s her call. I won’t force her into more bullshit, especially after what your sons pulled. You need to check them. I don’t care who they are—if Axel lays hands on her again, I will end him. I don’t care if she begs for mercy. I don’t care if you do. That line’s been crossed before. I won’t allow it again.”
I still.
His threat hangs between us, hot and sharp. My blood boils at the audacity. But beneath that rage is understanding. Because if someone had put their hands on my daughter, if she were alive? I’d gut them too. He and I—we’re the same that way.
Protectors.
Executioners.
I look over at my boys, both silent now. They needed to hear this. Needed tofeelit. The world just shifted under our feet, and if we don’t get our shit together fast, we’re going to lose more than money and product.
