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“Get moving, Princess,” I hissed at myself.

And I did.

I headed downstairs, barging into the pantry that I knew was full of more guns than food, and picked out two that could fit into my bag, along with a handful of bullets that I prayed would fit the weapons that I chose.

But because I wasn’t 100% confident in my choices, I stopped back in the kitchen to grab the fancy knives I’d gotten for Toni for his birthday and splayed them out on the kitchen table.

After taking the stairs two at a time, I stormed back into my room and emptied the contents of my never-ending handbag onto the floor at the foot of my bed.

I changed into a more practical set of clothes, which unfortunately for me, meant black yoga pants and a sweater.

I threw my hair up into a bun on top of my head and crashed into Rome’s room to steal the pair of Doc Martens that I’d been coveting since I met her. They were a tad too small, but at least they weren’t the stupid fucking floppy sandals that I had with me.

Heading back into the kitchen, I loaded my Chanel bag with the guns, the knives, and the loose bullets of various sizes.

The ‘special’ kitchen drawer was locked, so I kicked the flimsy wood with the heel of my boot until it cracked, yanked it open and retrieved the spare keys to Toni’s fancy fucking sports car.

He’d never let me drive it before, but he wasn’t fucking here to stop me.

No one was.

* * *

As I drove to Lilith’s, I kept trying to call people, just to see who would answer. The only person who picked up was Larissa.

“Riss, have you heard from Ren?”

“No?”

“Okay, bye?—”

“Wait, why?”

I didn’t answer.

Didn’t know how.

“Oh,” was all she said, because she grew up the same as me.

Mafia heiress.

The sit-at-home-and-wait daughter.

The none-of-your-business kid.

She cleared her throat and then said, “Keep me updated,” before hanging up.

I parked illegally in front of Lilith’s, and tried to convince myself that I didn’t care because Toni had enough money to pay the fine, rather than‘they can’t fine him because he’s probably dead’.

I used my spare key to let myself in through the back door and burst inside.

“Hello?” I called, running from the dressing rooms to the main floor of the club. “Please! Hello?” My voice was desperate now.

“Zarina?” A small, familiar voice came out of Rome’s office.

“Livie!” I sighed a heaping breath of relief, flinging myself towards my tiny sister-in-law and wrapping her into a tight hug.

She patted me on the arm, signalling that I should settle a bit.