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“I know this is a shock. Alessandro, your leader and older brother killed, then Adriano, second to Dom, disappears. I am so very sorry, Shakal.”

“Thank you for staying true to your word,Pakhan.”

“We are family now. Truly. I know you must grieve, but you are one of us. We grieve with you; all of us have lost family along the way. Take some time to rest.”

I nod, taking the gesture of his hand as a dismissal and leaving without acknowledging the rest of the council. No one says shit, so I guess it’s fine.

Dumbstruck, I make my way back to my room, sitting on the side of my bed. I should just sleep. Rest. Shut off.

I earned acclaim tonight. And the news he just conveyed.

Great.

I just wish I could revel in the fact that I discovered a cell of infiltrating enemies, smugglers. Instead, I’m T-boned with the news that I am the last remaining Diamante that anyone knows of in the world. And I have no way to reach Aless, to tell him that our brothers are gone. Even if there is hope that Adriano may have escaped.

I feel so damn alone.

My twin is dead.

It’s unfathomable. Incomprehensible. We were one. Two halves of the same person.

And we were Diamantes God dammit. We were invincible.

Rage boils in my chest.

I can’t believe this. Not until I see his fucking corpse. So I rush out, showering, changing. I’m halfway to stealing a car for the night when Mat catches up to me.

“Ciro, what happened? I looked for you after, but…” His eyes widen slightly as he catches sight of my face in the lights of the garage.

“We going out?” I ask, my eyes burning.

“Da,” is all he murmurs, snatching the keys and nodding toward a vehicle.

He drives in silence, all the way to the party district, letting me simmer in my sorrow. My anger.

By the time we arrive and park, we’ve killed a bottle of vodka and I’m feeling a lot better.

“This place, this is a good spot to let loose, I promise.”

“Thanks Mat.”

“Hey, it’s all good.”

“It’s really not. So thanks.”

“You are my blood now, Ci. Never forget. Now, just for tonight, forget the bullshit. We are fucking Volk. We are fucking unstoppable, ah?”

“Fucking right.”

The club is exactly my kind of place. Dark. Lights flashing. Hardcore music thumping.

I’m six deep and dancing with a girl in bright pink in no time, letting the bass bash my worries and pain away. The line of blow doesn’t hurt anything, or the couple of hits off of a few jays.

Soon, I’m lost in the middle of the dance floor, Matvey off somewhere flirting, trying to score.

I should be a better wingman.

He deserves a better wingman. But tonight, I’m gone.