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The tiny redhead beside Alana laughs. And then Izzy Marciano, a woman who really likes cake at weddings, steps past Marshall to stand beside Alana. She doesn’t say a word, but the message is clear: Marshall isnotin control.

Alana picks up her phone, presses a button, and it starts ringing. She’s like a millennial demigod.

Ring.

Ring.

“Hello?” It’s a man on the other end, and though I don’t know who, the voice is familiar.

Alana’s tone is cold and icy. “Three rings?”

“I had to get to a secure location,” the man hisses.

“I still have immunity.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. “Two years ago, I sat in the Situation Room and told you Majesty was a problem, and if it wasn’t dealt with, I’d have to step in. And if it crossed into my world, fire would rain down. Do you remember that?”

Marshall swallows hard, catching my eye and mouthing, “Situation Room?”

And that’s when it hits me—she’s on the phone with the President’s Chief of Staff.

Holy shit.

“I remember,” the man stammers.

“Excellent. An hour and a half ago, The Deviant abducted my kids.” Her voice is calm but menacing. “They’re back in my custody. I assume you’ve been briefed on the purple smoke plume?”

“Fuck,” Clemmons whispers.

“Your task force spent three years and thousands of man-hours trying to fix what I handled in less than an hour. That inefficiency is either gross incompetence or corruption, and neither are acceptable. This will have consequences felt around the world. In the next few minutes, two bodies will drop. Maybe three, depending on what Ian says.”

The room freezes. No one even breathes. She just admitted to murder in front of a presidential cabinet member.

“You fucking little bitch,” he hisses. “I won’t be threatened by a cunt who got lucky a few times.”

Donny lets out a panicked, confused bellow. “Why?” He mutters, “It’s gonna be so much worse now.”

But Alana is unfazed. “In forty minutes, the press will be announcing your resignation.” She hangs up.

Penny hands a folder to Marshall, and Alana explains, “These are the arrest warrants you’ll need. Congratulations. This is the biggest collar of your career.”

“These aren’t legal and won’t be admissible in court,” Marshall protests.

Penny smirks. “They’re legal enough.”

The front door flings open, and three middle-aged men stomp in. I recognize them instantly as the heads of the Four Families. Oh shit. Alana seems underwhelmed by this as she rolls her eyes and walks toward the door Dimitri and the others went through earlier.

Giovanni Marciano, the head of the Italian mafia, appears like a raging bull, but stops when he sees his son on the ground. “What the hell happened?”

Donny raises his head from his knees, which have been firmly pressed against his chest. “It’s bad.” His voice quivers, and his eyes are red. He’s been crying.

Carlos Ramos, the head of the Mexican cartel, kneels next to Donny. “Are the kids all right?”

Donny nods. “I think so. Ian’s a little hurt.”

Giovanni repeats his question. “What happened?”

Donny whimpers as he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. “It’s a delicate ecosystem, and she nuked it with napalm and scorched the earth, and nothing will grow… LITERALLY!”

The two older men look at each other, their mouths hanging open like they’re about to speak, when Donny cuts them off. “She burned fifty percent of the world’s Majesty stock. Poof, gone. Supply and demand, Dad. She’s started a worldwide drug war, and we’re her biggest allies. The Four Families are going to have neon targets on our backs that can be seen from space.” He wipes his nose with his sleeve. “We’re all going to die.”