Page 4 of Bitter Prince

“It’s time to say goodbye,” Grandma croaked, her voice trembling.

I had never seen Grandma cry, and something about it had my eyes burning. “I d-don’t want to s-say goodbye.” A hiccup escaped me and I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “I want Mamma to stay with us.”

I never liked goodbyes. Even when Papà and Mamma left us with a sitter—usually Grandma—to go out to dinner, it would upset me, and I’d fight sleepiness until they returned.

Except there was no avoiding it this time.

Mamma wasn’t coming back. Not this time. I heard Papà say that this was a final goodbye, and then he broke down. He said he didn’t know how to live without her. Right now, he was staring at the casket, unable to look away. He hadn’t moved since the service started. Something in his eyes scared me. Maybe it was grief, or maybe it was something else. I didn’t know.

“Let’s go,” Phoenix signed. I didn’t move, so she tugged on my arms.

“No,” I mouthed stubbornly. I was too tired to move my hands and sign, but Phoenix could read my lips. “Papà’s not leaving, so neither are we.”

Grandma watched our exchange, her face ghostly pale. She looked tired, traveling for the past two days to make it to the funeral on time. She turned to face our father, her eyebrows furrowing in disapproval.

“I’m taking the girls home, Tomaso,” she snapped.

He never looked away from the casket. “I’ll be there soon.”

She glared at him and I shrank, my shoulders slumping. Grandma could be scary when she wanted to be.

“No, not that home,” she hissed. “I’m taking them with me.”

That had Papà looking up from the casket. A few heartbeats passed before understanding settled in his eyes. “I don’t think so, Diana.”

Grandma glared at him, cold and terrifying, and suddenly I didn’t want to go with her. I’d rather stay with Papà. “I wasn’t asking, Tomaso. The girls will be safe with me.”

“I’ll keep them safe.” His face turned red, maybe even purple, and he let out a string of curses I didn’t understand.

“I made a promise to my daughter when she married you.” Her voice boomed in the empty cemetery, disturbing all the souls—dead and alive. “I will keep that promise.”

“You’re not taking my children from me,” he roared.

Grandma stepped forward, and I’d never seen her look so big and strong.

“Grace called me and told me what she found.” Papà’s face turned white. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He tried again, and still no words came out. “I don’t know much about your world, Tomaso,” Grandma continued. “But I know if anyone else learned about it, Phoenix and Reina would be in danger.”

Phoenix’s arm came around me, hugging me tightly, and I could feel her trembling as much as I was. I stared wide-eyed at their exchange while my heart hammered, cracking my ribs, and I knew something dark was starting to take form.

I just didn’t know when or where it would come back to hurt us.

3

AMON, 14 YEARS OLD

Idropped to my knees, the punch making me lose my balance.

Mamma dropped the pink kimono she was stitching with a sharp intake of breath. My brother sat next to her, holding his breath and watching each move.

It was my weekly Goju-ryu and Shotokan karate classes with Master Azato, my grandfather’s old master. He might be advanced in age, but he was stronger than many men half his age. Stronger than my father. So, I listened to his instructions and practiced hard.

Not only because I wanted to be stronger than my father, but so I could be unbeatable and make my grandfather proud. He’d only entered my life in the past year, but he told Mamma he wanted me to take over the Yakuza. Mamma said it would make me stronger than Father. Stronger than the Omertà. Stronger than most of the underworld.

I worked hard and pushed myself even harder.

I pushed to my feet just in time to block another hit. Gasping, I gritted my teeth and used a mikazuki geri, bending my knee and pointing it to the left of Master Azato.

He grunted when I snapped my leg out, stopping it only a hair’s breadth from the side of his face. When he stepped back from me, he was smiling. “Good job, Amon,” he commended me in Japanese.