Page 183 of Savage Empire

“Ineverlet anyone in,” I seethe, staring down at her. “I let you in, I loved you, and you lied to my face,again, Rayna!”

Her face drops. “Loved? Past tense?”

My jaw clenches, head shaking slowly. “Get in the fucking house and don’t you dare leave it. I have to go clean up your mess.”

“Wait, when will you be back?” Her bottom lip trembles, and God, I want to wrap her in my arms and refuse to let go.

But I can’t let this rage die down yet. I’m going to need it.

“I don’t know,” I answer tiredly. “I have to go to fucking Chicago, so I’ll be awhile. Stay at the main house or ours if Elio comes over.”

She hesitates.

“Go, Yordan is probably back and waiting for you.”

“I’m really sorry,” she sniffles.

“I know you are.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

Apollo

Even the best laid plans have room for error, and of course, Abramo’s plan is no exception. His father has always been a deeply paranoid man, and if I made as many enemies as he has over the years, I would be too.

People tend to hate sadists who ruin their lives for fun, but Romeo Giuliani has never much cared about his impact on others. He enjoys power, and how it makes him feel to lord it over others. He’s the reason that his men are able to hit their wives without consequence. He’s the reason that Sienna’s mother was able to force her into surgeries she didn’t want or need. He’s the reason that Abramo looks like a fucking angel in comparison to him.

And Abramo is no angel. Nico wouldn’t let me come alone due to that very fact. Abramo has a sadistic streak all his own, but one that doesn’t make me sick to my stomach. He’s a ruthless leader, and someone who doesn’t take disrespect from his men, but he doesn’t torture innocents for fun.

He also doesn’t seem to be up to date on his father’s security levels.

There was supposed to be fifteen guards in the house while his father slept, and now we’re finding out there’s closer to forty-five. Forty-five against three are terrible odds, even if Abramo and I make most regular guards look like heavily armed toddlers in comparison. Our training is unmatched, but the numbers still don’t look good.

“So much for sneaking in to poison him in his sleep,” Nico mocks, cracking his knuckles in the back of the car.

We’re a quarter mile away from Romeo’s mansion, hidden by the trees surrounding us. The almost two-hour flight here was enough for me to stuff my anger away, and get into the mindset to kill. It’s going to be so late when we return home that it’ll be almost early. But something tells me Rayna will be up and waiting for me when I arrive.

Sighing, I look out the window into the pitch black forest and exhale. I just want to be done with this favor, so that I can forget that tonight ever fucking happened. When I look back toward the passenger seat, Abramo is still on his laptop, watching the camera’s in his father’s home with a frustrated frown. He doesn’t bother to respond to my brother’s snark, too focused on recalculating his plan.

Nico decides to press further, needing a reaction from the man. “Why exactly do you have access to your father’s security cameras when he refuses to let you live in the same house as him?”

“He trusts me,” Abramo grits out. “I had to move out because he didn’t like when his company would attempt to warm my bed as well as his. The young ones do get tired of wrinkly old fucks eventually.”

Nico’s eyes darken. “How young?”

“Twenties,” Abramo answers with a huff. “He’s a monster, not the devil himself. I wouldn’t try to assassinate him quietly if he went that far. I would execute him openly, and anyone who protested it could join him.”

“Back to the topic at hand,” I say, nodding to the computer screen. “What are we doing about the beefed up security?”

Abramo’s original plan relied on weak points in the guard’s rounds. We would sneak him in, cover his back, and wait until the cyanide he injects his father with takes effect. It’s quick, mimics a heart attack, and by the time his body is examined, it’s disintegrated.

“I say we kill them all and call it a day.”

“Nico, I swear to fuck,” Abramo growls, swiveling around in his seat to glare at my bother.

“You can’t take a joke.” Nico huffs. “We kill them all and then stage a gas leak. The house blows up, and boom, bye bye evidence. Bye bye foul play. A tragic accident befalls Romeo Giuliani, leaving his throne empty and waiting for his irritating son.”

“That’s—” Abramo pauses, considering. “Not a horrible idea.”