Page 147 of Dangerous Men

“Excuse me, what did you just say?” Katie asks. She sounds horrified. Like I just blasphemed in the most disgusting, vile way possible.

“He’s not a part of my life anymore, Katie. I don’t want him to be. Call his parents. Go there yourself, have Lance hold his hand and look after him for a while. But I’mnotgoing to go see him.”

All I hear is a disbelieving huff followed by a quick intake of breath, as if she’s about to start arguing. But I don’t need to hear it. I reach down and end the call.

With that, I realize I’m ready to shut the door on Chase, Katie, Sarah, the whole group…and most importantly, that version of myself.

She’s gone. I left her behind on the floor of my bathroom, splintered into a thousand pieces, with no hope of being put back together.

Now it’s up to me to figure out who I actually am.

52

DANTE

There’sa stillness that hangs in the air before a storm. A nervous quiet, like nature itself is holding its breath.

I live for that moment. The anticipation of ruin.

I lean back against the scratchy fabric of the waiting-room chair and feel that anticipation brewing, heralding the coming storm. A storm that has been building for years.

Two photos sit on the table before me, one clipped from a newspaper several years past and one from the recent style section of a magazine.

The pictures show the same woman.

I pick up the newspaper clipping, giving it my full attention.

She’s younger, in this one, standing in front of a cheap folding table that’s piled high with sugary treats. She smiles at the camera a little awkwardly. Almost like she’s shy.

She’s flanked by two people. A pretty Asian woman on her right, with bright colored hair and a big, toothy grin. And a man on her left, his arm looped possessively around her waist,

The caption reads:Local business owners Jade andSydney—pictured with her significant other, Chase—join manyothers in celebrating the success of Fortune City School District’s annual bake sale.

I run my finger over her name, my fingers smudging the ink.

Sydney.

The next picture is my favorite.

Her hair is longer. It’s a candid pic, and the photographer captured her mid-laugh. She looks beautiful. Elegant.

But I’m not looking at her, I’m looking at the man she’s pictured dancing with.

Mason Alexander Sterling.

The pain in my leg flares to an inferno as I stare at his image.

I haven’t seen him in years. Not since the bastard tried to walk away from my organization, taking three of my best assets with him. Not since one of them tried to kill me.

I barely made it out alive that night. And while I was gone, they took everything. My organization. My money. My power. My life’s work, blown to pieces by two gunshots.

They tookeverything. And it took years for me to crawl my way back up from the bottom and finally take back what’s mine.

They think they’ve won. They think they’ve buried me, left me and my business behind them. But you don’t leave my organization. There’s no retirement plan, no escape. You’re in it until you die.

The day Mason Sterling and his so-called brothers took off, he signed his death warrant. But he’s been untouchable. Too powerful for me to take down, even with the weight of my organization building behind me. And he’s never had a weakness, other than his fucking brothers. Never had something I could exploit.

Until now.