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“I have a feeling the pending one would kill me if I did.”

Cassius wasn’t unfamiliar with death. He’d both delivered and experienced it during his thirty-four years of life. However, there was something different about losing someone within his organization’s network that delivered a dose of reality he wasn’t prepared for. More importantly, it allowed him a glimpse of the grief he caused others. It humanized him, forcing him to acknowledge the dark reality of the life he’d been born into, if only for a moment.

The funeral had been elaborate. Severo wouldn’t have had it any other way. The repast was just as grand, held at the Torrisi estate, planned to a T, and catered by one of the city's finest soul-food restaurants. But there was a method to Severo’s perceived kindness. All of the soldiers were on alert, mindful that the shooter could very well show up to pay their respects as a way to stay in the loop.

“Everything good?” Mars asked, approaching him with a drink in hand.

“So far,” Cassius scanned the crowd again. “No one’s making any noise.”

“Well, we knew it was a long shot. You’d have to be a complete fuckin’ idiot to show up at Severo’s house after killing his right-hand man.”

“You have to be a complete fucking idiot to kill Severo’s right-hand man,” Cassius snorted.

“Touché,” Mars agreed. “But with everything that’s happened, I think our best bet is to keep the you-know-who situation on ice for a little bit.”

Cassius immediately knew that he was talking about Korr.

“I’m already ahead of you. My mama was pisssed when I asked her to cancel the party. I tried to explain that since since I’m holding off on the issue, there’s no reason for alibi’s and public appearances but she wasn’t trying to hear that shit.”

Mars chuckled. “I bet she wasn’t. Yo Mama looks for an reason to host an event.”

“I know, right?”

“You seen your girl?”

“Briefly.” The word barely left his lips, but Cassius had no trouble finding Aella in the sea of people. Due to the day’s circumstances, he hadn’t pushed for her acknowledgment or attention, and her safety wasn’t a concern since she’d been surrounded by her father and his men all morning. So, he stayed in his lane and played the background. However, him not pushing wasn’t to be mistaken for him not wanting it. “I’ve been giving her space.”

“I—”

“What’s going on, fellas?” Elio Catavio, Antonio’s son, called while approaching, interrupting whatever Mars had planned to say.

Cassius’ stomach turned as he surveyed a man he wouldn’t piss on if he were on fire. Elio’s reputation as an abusive drunk followed him wherever he went. His last name was the only thing that kept him from being completely shunned from their circle. Cassius, however, couldn’t care less about a last name. He didn’t like Elio, and everyone knew it. Elio included.

“What’s up?” Mars spoke, knowing Cassius wouldn’t.

“Man, just trying to wrap my head around this bullshit. I can’t believe someone actually came for The Family like this. It’s disrespectful as fuck.”

One of Cassius’ eyebrows shot into the air. “You plan on doing something about it?”

Elio’s bravado immediately slipped, as evidenced by how his expression shifted.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I mean, what is there to do? Our fathers are handling it. And from what I hear, you and Aella are supposed to become a thing, which leaves Ria to me. Once that’s set in stone, no one will be stupid enough to try any of us.”

“Ria ain’t an option for you, bruh,” Mars surprisingly made that declaration.

Thoroughly amused, Cassius watched his friend with a raised eyebrow.

“E-excuse me?” Elio stammered, clearly shocked.

“I didn’t stutter, but if you’d like me to repeat myself, I will.”

“I don’t think you want him to repeat himself,” Cassius grinned, egging the situation on. “My boy might play too much, but he isn’t a man of many words when it comes to something he ain’t playing about.”

Elio looked between the two again before releasing an uncomfortable laugh. “You can’t be suggesting that there’s something between you and Ilaria. No offense, but the rules are⁠—”

“Typically, someone uses the phrase no offense before saying something disrespectful or offensive. I may not meet the qualifications laid out by the rules, but I stand by my word, and believe me, I’m willing to die behind my respect, Playboy. What about you?”