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Dominick had two daughters, Milania and Adriana Romano, and they were real pieces of work. I might cut men down with weapons, but those women cut people down with their words. Fuck, the shit they’d say to people was cruel.

Spent their early twenties trying to fuck anyone with a dick and money. All behind Daddy’s back, of course, since they would be wed off in business deals. Some unlucky bastards ended up with bullets in the brain for touching the principessas. And now Caleb would have to take one for the team and marry the youngest cunt. The oldest one had been wed off to Dominick’s second two years ago. The don didn’t have a son by blood, so he finessed the system and made Enzo his heir through marriage.

Supposedly Enzo had a girlfriend at the time and broke the news of his engagement to her by sending the chick a wedding invitation. Fucking asshole move.

No one really knew what happened to the girls’ mother, only that when Adriana was little, the mafioso announced the passing of his wife. He never remarried, leaving the position of matriarch of the Romano clan to his sister, Giana.

A viper was cuddly and sweet compared to her.

There was a rumor that Giana had once been married and that she’d had her husband killed. But it was so long before my time that I didn’t know if there was any truth to the story. All I knew for sure was that the Romano family was fucked-up, ruthless, and better off in the ground.

A prickle of awareness slid over my skin as I felt someone’s eyes on me. I never could explain the sixth sense to my father, and he called me foolish for believing in it.

But I’d yet to be wrong.

“Someone’s watching,” I announced, my hand sliding to my gun. Neither of my brothers questioned my announcement. They never did. My gaze bounced around the club, attempting to suss out the culprit. The harsh strobing lights and sea of writhing bodies made it impossible to determine who was watching and why.

“Anything?” Caleb asked as we approached the VIP stairs.

I did a final sweep, but no one caught my attention. “No one sticks out so far.” I noted the bouncer sending death glares my way. “Let’s get this over with,” I responded, taking the stairs two at a time.

Thank fuck, the music wasn’t as loud up here. I led us to the cluster of armchairs rather than one of the c-shaped velvet booths that lined the walls. Those were basically death wishes. How the fuck was someone supposed to get out of one of those quickly?

Kenji plopped down into one of the leather seats. “Did you ladies know we’re criminals?” he asked, winking.

Blondie and her friend, who’d shown up at some point, giggled, thinking he was messing with them. Or maybe they didn’t give a fuck. How could they be so careless with their lives? Kenji had a fuckin’ Katana strapped to his back and was coated in blood spatter. I looked like I could pop people’s heads off with my hand, and Caleb wore his dress shirt unbuttoned to show off the stab wound above his heart.

But that’s what women were like around here. They were interested in what a man could get them instead of what we might do to them. They were lucky we didn’t sell skin—a rarity in this club.

Caleb followed Kenji’s lead. Plopping down while pulling the blonde onto his lap, his eyes scanning the room for any Bratva members watching us too closely. We weren’t banned from the club, but they didn’t welcome us either, and too much attention wasn’t ideal since Caleb needed to sneak into the club’s office tonight.

“All right, I think that’s enough of this shit,” Caleb said, practically dumping the blonde on the ground as he stood. She wasn’t his type, and her annoying vocal fry apparently moved his timeline up. Or maybe it was the very unsexy way she’d essentially made out with his ear.

I smirked over the rim of my glass. “Eager to get it on, brother? We’ve barely been here five minutes. Make sure you fuck her real good,” I taunted, knowing full well he was planning on putting her in a cab. The glower he gave me would’ve had most men shitting their pants, but it just caused me to let out a laugh.

“I’ll see you in a minute,” he bit out, pulling the two women along.

Kenji yelled out after them, “He’s a grow-er, not a show-er. Don’t give him a hard time about it. Oh, and keep licking his ear like that. He loves it.”

We fell into a fit of laughter at the look of horror on her face and the middle finger from Caleb.

Thank fuck, this should be easy for him.

CHAPTER 4

SCAR

“DO YOU HAVE FUCKING HOLLOW POINTS POINTED AT MY BALLS?”

Tonight wasn’t supposed to start with me hiding an unconscious body in a random coat closet. Yet here we were. Asshole should’ve let me into the club. I’d asked nicely. Now he’d wake up with a dislocated shoulder and a killer headache. And what a bitch move yelling out like he had.

Thankfully, the thumping sound of bass coming from the speakers drowned out any noise besides the track. The air in Neon Nights was thick with sexual need. Inhibitions were thrown out the window. Writhing bodies scattered all around, moving like they were in a music-induced hypnosis. More than likely, they were all high out of their minds. There was no way you’d stick around this club if you weren’t heavily under the influence because the stench of blood and death seeped from the dark, recessed corners.

Nasty shit happened in here, and I hoped this feeling of foreboding prickling across my skin wasn’t for me.

“Can I get you another one, miss?”

I glanced over at the handsome bartender, whose eyes held a little too much interest. “I’m good, thanks. Just waiting for my man,” I responded with a little more attitude than intended as I wrapped my fingers around the stem of my martini glass, which was still practically full. His flirtatious smile fell, and with nothing more than a curt nod, he left.