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His mustache bristles as his nostrils flare. It would have looked quite comical if we weren’t in some new-age version of a Western shootout. I can practically hearThe Good, the Bad and the Uglyin the background. He thinks he’s Clint Eastwood and he doesn’t realize he’s in the wrong century. His time is over. He’s obsolete and still clinging to the good old days that no longer exist.

My brother arrives from a container behind my father. His feet come to an abrupt halt once he sees me.

“What are you doing here?” he spits out, gawping between me and dear old dad.

“Hush,” my father spits out.

“He’s made it clear he’s not interested-”

“I said shut your mouth, Augustus!” My father shoveshim.

Silence crackles through the air. Luca shuffles from foot to foot as my father and I stand off.

“You’ve had your fun, Austin. Time to grow up.”

“You think that killing the eleven goons you sent to beat up Danny was me having fun?”

“It was actually twelve goons, Austin,” Luca interrupts.

I turn to Luca and smirk, spotting a hint of apprehension on his face. “Thank you, Luca. Correction, twelve goons. Not fun. But you didn’t give me much of a choice, did you?”

My father’s lips flatten, his eyes flitting to Luca for a moment.

“So let me tellyouhow this is going to go. You’re going to close up shop, on your terms, because I’m feeling generous.”

He laughs, looking around at his two fresh-faced goons, who snicker, too, unaware of how serious I am.

“I warned you what would happen if you didn’t come to heel, Austin. That little girlfriend of yours is going to make an excellent centerpiece for when my associates come next week,” he sneers, but I lose all ability to hear. All I can see is the blob of red his face distorts into. The dock lights illuminate every contour of his wrinkled face. His white hair is thinning on top; his suit is a little too big. It’s almost like me killing twelve of his men has left him a little stressed.

I know he won’t lay a finger on Olivia. Not a chance in hell am I going to let that happen.

“We both know you’ll be dead long before you get within a hundred miles of her,” I say coolly.

He laughs, and his two henchmen laugh too. “You were always soft, you know that? Why do you think I made you an enforcer? You needed toughening up. And thank god I did because you were fucking good at what you did, Austin. You just needed a little push, that’s all.”

I shake my head. Nothing about me was soft. And I don’t mean that in a self-aggrandizing way. It’s meant ina self-deprecating way. I had to learn to be soft. Hardness was ingrained in me. Being tough, violent, aggressive. It was second nature to me two years ago. I had to unlearn that. Alfie taught me how to do it. Olivia showed me why I wanted to in the first place. Soft is used as such an insult, yet all I dream about now is having a soft life. A soft bed. A soft pillow. A soft dream. My hands on Olivia’s soft, perfect skin as she curls into me.

“Surprised?” my father continues. “I know what’s good for you. If it weren’t for me, you’d be miserable.”

What the fuck is he talking about? I was fucking miserable working for him. But now I’m not. Well, with the exception of the clusterfuck that was this last week or so. I’ve never been happier. Despite his intention, he is right. If he hadn’t made me an enforcer, I never would have run from that job, I never would have reconnected with Alfie, I never would have hid in Squeeze the Day, I never would have met Olivia, she never would have kidnapped me. The fucked thing is that he’s one hundred percent right. He’s got the right answer despite doing the wrong calculation. Fuck, that’s so annoying.

But do I care? Not really.

“You’re right, Dad. You made me who I am. And luckily, I’ve unlearned a lot of what you taught me. I’ve met someone who loves me and expects nothing from me. Without you, I never would have met her. So thank you. For the one thing you did right. But this ends now.”

“You’re damn right it ends now,” he spits. “Kill him.” He holds my eyes, and I accept that this is happening. My father has ordered my death, and it’s the calmest he’s looked all night. I hold his gaze as everyone else shifts uncomfortably.

The electric current hums in the air as the crackle of the lights overhead interrupts like a circuit breaker. I can almost hear the waves lap against the concrete. I wonder if he’ll throw my body into the port or move me elsewhere.

“Are you deaf? KILL HIM.”

The goons stare at each other, wondering who shouldmake the move. My brother steps forward, understanding that he is the one being addressed.

But our father holds out an arm against his chest. August looks to him in confusion, back to me, and then I hear the click of the safety. Even my brother has the decency to gasp.

“I’m sorry, Austin,” Luca speaks steadily. I close my eyes and will myself to wake up from this nightmare. Surely not Luca? Luca whom I’ve known since we were kids. Luca, who broke a guy's nose during my first fight. He's had my back my entire life. I've had his. He left this life with me. We built something together to be proud of.

“Luca, what the fuck are you doing?” I try to remain calm, but the hurt I feel is overwhelming. This guy is more of a brother to me than my actual fucking brother. And even he looks disgusted at this betrayal right now.