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“Don’t you dare.” I lie down and turn to shut the lamp. “Good night, you fucking psycho.”

***

THREE DAYS LATER, Idress in my best suit, the same one I wore to Trace’s wedding. When I come out of my closet, Ava is standing there gawking at me, hunger in her eyes.

“I’ve got a meeting this morning.” I pack up my wallet, soaking in her reaction.

It’s not one entirely of lust, but...envy. She was promised power and got turned into a doll. A trophy-wife.

I’m tempted to invite her to this meeting. I want a strong woman at my side. But the strong woman I remember hasn’t shown up yet.

She will.

Ava’s eyes dim suspiciously. “Another episode of my new favorite Netflix show it is.”

I shudder to think what the hell she’s watching. And planning.

I pick up Connor, who gives me a report on how it went bringing Brandon’s remains to his mother. Only, she’d fled the country before they got to her empty house.

“Fled?” I ask, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

“Shane tracked her passport crossing into Mexico a few days ago.”

“Fuck.” I put my head down. “Is she someone we need to keep an eye on?”

“Not if she took off.”

“Then what do we do with his body?”

“I have a guy who can bring the remains to the upstate lakes region, tie them to a block of cement, and dump Keller in a deep lake.”

Liking the plan, I add, “Separate the pieces into three dumps.”

“Christ, that’s smart.” Connor punches me in the arm. “We also took pictures and had them printed to send the message around the neighborhood. He’s gone. We’re in charge. I have a team of capos carefully handpicked from our investigation days to help make progress on the streets. This world is now Quinlan Empire.”

Troi Keller is dead, and so is Brandon. I’m the heir. And the message is clear:Pledge your loyalty or watch your back.

I’m not in the mood to start slaughtering people en masse.

Connor goes on to report that most people don’t give a fuck who’s in charge. Most are paying for protection, which we’ll provide. Some want weapons, which we’ll sell. Just not to kids. We’re phasing out drugs and completely decimated a trafficking ring Troi put in place.

I only wish I could have killed him myself for that one.

Disgusting.

After picking up Shane for our secret meeting, my driver Gus races me across town. My throat goes dry seeing the metal spires to the fencing that surrounds Gracie Mansion.

When I sit up, my bodyguards flinch and reach into their jackets.

“What’s the problem, boss?” Zeke mutters, being the voice for him and his partner Ace, who doesn’t speak.

Zeke and Ace are code names, and are from Boston, recruited by Trace and Rhys. They have zero connections here in New York. Fresh and brand new, they have only ever known loyalty to a Quinlan.

“It’s fine,” I say to Zeke with a hand signal. “I’ll leave my piece with you. I’m thinking I don’t need it to meet the mayor.”

Turns out we’re not meeting the mayor, but a deputy on his team. Connor stays with the guards, while Shane and I are brought to an office escorted by an assistant who met us at the visitor’s desk.

Inside, Ares sits in a chair, his long legs crossed, looking quite comfortable. “Donly Conrad, this is my future brother-in-law, Griffin Quinlan.”