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Ironically, she’d thrown a glass at our heads too when we told her she couldn’t come to the meeting with us. The look of betrayal was like a stab to the gut. A stark difference to the affectionate gazes that had happened moments before.

“We need to decide what the fuck we’re going to do with her. If we involve her, we can’t half-ass that shit. There can’t be distractions or loose ends while we execute our plans. So we either bring her in or let her go,” Niko said, finality in his voice.

From the outside looking in, you’d think he’d be the one with an anger issue. The Russian was built like a brick shithouse with almost as much ink as me, but he was a big softy on the inside. And once he’d decided to keep you, the fucker wasn’t letting go.

I had a feeling Scar would fall into that category soon, if she wasn’t already. The thing with Niko was that he had to stick to one-night stands or risk hyper-fixating on them. There was no way he could have done what we just did and not gotten obsessed.

Caleb groaned, plopping down on the leather couch. “Fuck. Can we trust her?” He chugged half of the fresh glass he’d poured. “She didn’t bat a fucking eye at the fact that I had a handgun shoved between the fucker’s lips. Not a yell. She didn’t cower in the corner crying. She fucking walked up to me and told me I could kill him somewhere easier to clean.” He lifted his head from where he was cradling it in his hands. “Bringing her in means trusting her.”

“Is it smart to bring her into this? Like, we’re not having a fucking picnic. It’s one thing not to freak out around a gun, but it’s a completely different thing to handle a gun.” I pointed out. Her scars popped into my mind, and my gut twisted at the thought of her in danger.

Caleb waved a hand dismissively. “I’m not concerned about how capable she is. She can handle it. I’d bet my life on her having a shit ton of secrets we don’t know about, and half of them are about how fucking capable she really is,” Caleb replied.

I raised my hands in surrender, my mouth pulling up into a smirk. She’d fucking love to hear that Caleb felt she was capable. But knowing those two, she wouldn’t know how to take the compliment if the fucker figured out how to even give her one.

“We won’t know whether we can trust her or whether she’s capable until we let her prove herself. She’s our enemy’s niece, but there’s clearly no love lost between the two. He fucking tried to hit her,” Niko growled out from where he was cleaning his Glock. It was a ritual he did every time something was on his mind. If I were to guess, I would say we all had the same thing on our minds.

Caleb sneered at the mention of the exchange with Dominick. “Yeah, and I’m going to remove the fucker’s hand for that offense,” Caleb said.

My eyebrow raised at his admission. I knew he didn’t hate her as much as he claimed to. If the fucker pulled his head out of his ass, he could actually enjoy his wife.

I piped up from where I was lying on the floor, legs propped up on the wall. “Her uncle clearly doesn’t like her, and she obviously hates him. She’s all for gutting him. Literally. So why the fuck does she stick around?” I asked. The question had been burning in the back of my mind since the engagement party. There was something we were missing. It was rare that there were people we didn’t know. We spent years planning and learning every in and out of the Four Families. Of course, we had the least amount of intelligence on the Italians since none of us were in that organization. But we’d learned the players and gained allies on the inside—ones who were still feeding us intel. But none of them had ever mentioned Scar.

So who the fuck was she?

“Did we find out anything about her?” I asked, my inner turmoil spilling over.

An exhausted sigh left Caleb. “No. All I know is that she’s Dominick’s niece.” He used air quotes around the term. “Which I don’t know how the fuck that’s possible. Not unless Giana had a kid and has kept it secret this whole time.”

“If that’s true, Dominick’s sister is an even bigger bitch than we thought. You didn’t see the glare she cut Scar when you announced her as your wife. I thought I’d have to jump in front of a bullet for you two,” Niko added, moving over to the armchair with a glass of vodka in his hand.

Caleb’s dark eyebrows wrinkled as he stared out the panoramic window, deep in thought. “That doesn’t feel right. Giana’s a bitch, but even more than that, she’s a conniving narcissist like her brother. If Scar were her daughter, she’d be manipulating her for her benefit fucking left and right. And Scar lived with him until eighteen and then moved out.” His attention whipped back toward us. “Oh, here’s some irony for you. Apparently, when she’s not being a thief, she has a successful security firm for the very wealthy. She’s the owner and CEO of Leslie George Security. Which that name doesn’t make sen—”

Laughter erupted from my chest, getting me strange looks from my brothers. “Clever fucking girl,” I said, shaking my head as I sat up. “I think I’m going to propose when I see her.”

“She’s already my wife, asshole.”

I ignored his possessive tone, pushing on with my explanation. “George Leslie is the godfather of 1920s New York bank robbers. The man was never caught. He’s who inspired the movie Ocean’s Eleven. He’d use blueprints to map out ahead of time where he would pull off his heists. Never used a firearm to pull off a robbery.”

Niko grinned at the revelation. “She’s fucking hustling people.”

Caleb’s hand curled and uncurled from where it rested on the arm of the sofa, and I was slightly concerned his mouth might permanently be stuck in a tight line.

“Listen, Caleb, I think we work with her. Clearly, she’s been able to survive in this world. Sure, she’s got secrets, but she could be an asset. Then you can divorce her, and we’ll never have to see her again,” Niko added.

I couldn’t tell whether my feelings were coloring my judgment, but I swore Niko’s voice hitched a bit when he mentioned being done with her. But he was right. We knew nothing about Scar, and we had other goals that were more important than pussy. Even for a pussy lover like me.

A deep sigh came from Caleb’s chest. “All right. Since this is a fucking democracy, what’s everyone’s vote? We bring her in and trust her? Or keep her locked in the fuckin’ apartment?” Caleb asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I chuckled, thinking back to when we were in high school and I told him his nose was too perfect and he wouldn’t get chicks looking that way.

He let me punch him, even though he knew what I said was bullshit. Caleb could always tell when I needed to release the tension building inside.

High school was when my need to ruin perfection first started. My father demanded excellence. He wanted the Jirocho clan to be the strongest of all the Yakuza clans, including those back in Japan. He felt the only way to achieve greatness was to be perfect in every aspect.

“Kenji, it’s your duty to tell our father you are the one who messed up. You aren’t important. I am. You can afford the beatings.”

I couldn’t wait to run the blade of my katana through my brother’s chest. But not before giving him a matching injury for every one he forced me to endure.