Page 23

23: Tori

Diablo, the goddamn legend, stands before me, an easily manipulated fool. His right-hand man, Juan, has deserted him. Gabe is mine now. All he has left is his name, and I’m about to take that from him, too.

I expect him to lash out, to spit venom, to throw one last desperate punch before the lights go out. Instead, he just...laughs.

That's not ominous at all.

It’s a quiet chuckle at first, barely more than a breath. Then it builds, rolling into something low and dark, it's a sound that unnerves me for a second.

“Oh, mija,” Diablo murmurs, shaking his head. “what do you think you're doing?”

I arch a brow. “Taking your empire.”

His smile doesn’t fade. If anything, it sharpens. “You think taking my men, my business, my fucking empire is as easy as making declarations? That my men will fall at your feet just because you said so?”

I tilt my head, feigning boredom. “Worked on Gabe.”

That earns me a flicker of something in his eyes—resentment, maybe even betrayal—but it’s gone as fast as it appeared. He rolls his shoulders like a man shaking off a weight, even though we both know it’s too late.

Just accept defeat.

Don't make this harder .

“My mistake,” he says smoothly. “I underestimated how much of me is in you.”

The words hit harder than I want to admit. I keep my face blank, refusing to let him see it.

“Hardly. I don't take interest in tearing others apart. Why did you spend so much time trying to turn me against Thorne, Blaze, and Ryder? Why test them at every turn? What the hell was your endgame here?”

Diablo exhales slowly, like he expected this question, like he’s been waiting for it. “Because I knew you wouldn’t leave them behind willingly.”

My stomach tightens, a cold, creeping sensation slithering under my skin.

He's been planning this since I called him to tell him they were coming.

He continues, voice calm, almost too calm. “You say you love them, but I know love, and I know what this world does to it. I needed you to see the truth for yourself. That at the end of the day, power wins. The moment they fucked up,” His gaze darkens. “I knew I was right.”

I scoff, but it feels forced. “So, you threw a bunch of tests at them, hoping they’d fail?”

“I knew they’d fail.” He looks at me, truly looks at me, and for the first time, I see something raw in his expression. “But I needed you to know it, too.”

I hate the way his words slither under my skin, like poison I can’t purge.

My mind drifts back to Mia’s kiss, the way Thorne didn't push her off. Then I remember the way Ryder let Lila outright flirt with him. Blaze was the only one who didn't lean into his assigned girl in some way.

I shake the thought off. I won’t let Diablo get into my head. Not now. “But they didn't fail. They're still here, still by my side. ”

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, like I just told a joke he found genuinely amusing. He tilts his head, studying me like I’m some puzzle he’s finally solved. “But for a moment, they weren't. For an instant, they did fail.”

No.

That wasn't their fault.

But the seeds of doubt have been planted, and Diablo fucking knows it.

I grit my teeth. “Only because Cassandra played us. She played you just as much. The difference is, I can fix it.”

He exhales sharply, and for the first time, his mask cracks. Just for a second.

“Cassandra was always a problem,” he mutters, almost to himself. “Too ambitious. Too hungry. I should’ve dealt with her years ago.”

I scoff. “Yeah? And yet, here we are. Your own lieutenant put the knife in your back, and now you’re bleeding out in front of me. Poetic.”

Diablo’s gaze flicks back to mine, and something shifts.

Something cold.

Something deadly .

"You still don’t understand, do you?" His voice drops, just a fraction, but it carries weight. I don’t react, but the atmosphere between us tightens. "I didn’t need Mia and Lila to break your men—I only needed you to realize you didn’t trust them. And I was right, wasn’t I?" His voice is soft now, almost hypnotic. "You doubted them.”

A slow smirk curves his lips, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. “That’s why you hesitate now. Because you know, deep down, that you’re no better than me.”

I snap. I grab him by the collar, slamming him back against the wall, my fingers curling into the fabric of his ruined suit. His body jerks from the impact, but he doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t flinch.

Instead, he just grins .

And I hate that for half a second... I wonder if he’s right.

Yeah, okay, like maybe for a moment I didn't trust them. But I mean, can you really blame me? Mia kissed Thorne. Ryder had Lila pressed against him. What else was I supposed to think?

His confidence digs under my skin like a blade. Deep. Sharp. Irritating the fuck out of me.

I should end this.

But for some reason I don’t.

Because despite every instinct screaming at me to finish him, there’s something in his eyes. Something calculating, something that tells me that even cornered, even outnumbered, he’s still playing the game.

And that’s what stops me. Not hesitation. Not fear. But the realization that if I take his place, I become him .

That’s what he wants. That’s what this whole fucking game has been about. Not just breaking me, not just testing me, but shaping me—forcing me into a mold until I become the only thing he understands.

Another Diablo.

Fuck that shit.

I came here ready to take everything—his power, his empire, his goddamn throne. I thought that was the only way to win. That I had to own his kingdom to destroy him.

But that’s how he keeps his legacy alive. Because if I sit in his chair, take his men, wear his crown, then he never really loses.

And that? That pisses me off more than anything.

The way he’s waiting for it, the way he’s already planning my first war, my first betrayal, my first lesson in the cost of power.

Because that’s what power does. It eats at you, wears you down until the person you were is just a ghost haunting the person you had to become .

And maybe that worked for him. But I’m not him. I don’t need to take his seat to win. I just need to walk away with everything that matters.

I have my own empire to build. One that doesn’t wear his name. One that will bury his.

I exhale slowly, then look him dead in the eyes, and lean closer. “You're wrong. I'm nothing like you. That small moment of doubt that you and Cass created made us stronger. I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that they're never leaving my side, and I’m never leaving theirs. We are, however, leaving you . Leaving here .”

The three of them move around me, taking a small step forward that only I notice. They feel the change, the shift in plans, and they don't seem to mind. They'll do whatever I ask because they love me, because they know I would never do anything to hurt us… at least not on purpose.

Diablo’s smug expression falters, just barely, but I catch it. “Leaving?”

A noise behind me—a sharp inhale.

Juan.

Even from the distance, I feel the way he tenses, the way his hands twitch at his sides. He agreed to follow us, sure—but he thought we were taking over.

I can almost hear him thinking: That wasn’t the deal.

But it is now.

“Yeah.” I tilt my head, feigning boredom. “I never came here wanting to take over. I came here to learn, and you've taught me a lot. Mainly what not to do, but there were a few nuggets of wisdom I’ll take with me and shine. So thanks for that.”

Diablo blinks slowly, like he can't quite comprehend what he’s hearing. He stares at me in a sort of blank disbelief. “Then what are you planning, mija? ”

I smirk. “We’re going back to California. And we’re taking some of your best men with us. The ones who see what I already do—that you’re done.”

Blaze shifts beside me. Not much, but enough. Meanwhile, Thorne’s arms stay crossed, his face as serious as ever.

Ryder fucking whistles . A low, impressed sound, like he’s watching a particularly nasty poker bluff go down at a high-stakes table. “Well, shit,” he whispers under his breath, shaking his head.

Diablo exhales slowly, his grin thinning at the edges. “You think they’ll follow you?”

I let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t think . I know .”

His nostrils flare, but his voice stays steady . Annoyingly steady. “And when someone decides to challenge what you’ve built? You think your pretty little dream of a kingdom will hold?”

I shrug. “If they come, we’ll handle it.”

A dry chuckle leaves him, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You sound like me.”

I tilt my head. “Then maybe you should’ve been smarter.”

That gets him. His nostrils flare a bit, and I see the moment he realizes I’m not his legacy, but a rival in the making.

And that’s what gets to him.

Blaze finally exhales, long and slow, like he’s still wrapping his head around it. Thorne just runs a hand through his hair, muttering something too low for me to catch. Ryder just looks amused. And Gabe just stands tall, as serious as ever, with his arms crossed and his gaze focused on our surroundings.

Of course he does .

Juan, though? His hands clench at his sides. He’s silent, but his body language isn’t.

My bad, bud.

Diablo leans forward, like he needs a second to process. “I underestimated you, mija. ”

I smile condescendingly. “Yeah. You did.”

I take a step back, eyeing him, memorizing him this way—a lesser version of himself—before I turn away.

Diablo calls after me, voice rough. “You know I won't need to come after you. Someone else will get to you before I ever have to lift a finger.”

I don’t stop walking. “Maybe,” I call back. “But I never stay down for long.”

That’s the difference. I don't let things weigh me down for long. I bounce back stronger and more powerful every time.

Let them come.

Diablo doesn’t speak. Staying silent as I'm sure he watches me leave, his gaze burning at my back.

I don’t turn around to watch him process it all. I don’t need to. I know exactly what’s happening behind me—his mind racing, calculating, trying to find a new angle. A way to make me regret leaving him. But there’s nothing left for him to twist.

This is checkmate.

And he knows it.

Blaze falls into step beside me, his arms tense like he’s waiting for me to change my mind… again.

Thorne is a few paces behind, his boots crunching against the bloodstained ground. His eyes are on me, his muscles coiled tight as he tries to psychically make out what I'm thinking.

Ryder, on the other hand, just grins. Like he’s enjoying the fucking show, like this is the best plot twist he’s ever seen play out.

And Gabe, ever my shadow, is a few paces behind, keeping me guarded as always.

Juan lets out a sharp breath, his shoulders stiff, but he follows behind along with the three others Diablo brought. I'm sure there will be more who'll hear the news and make their way to us by tomorrow. But for now, knowing I'm taking my father's two top guys with me is enough of a victory.

Behind me, I can hear Diablo slowly exhale, slow and measured, like he’s trying to keep his composure, but there’s a weight to his silence. A grudging acceptance that he can’t stop this.

Finally, he chuckles. It’s a hollow sound, scraping at the edges of my patience. “You know what I like about you, mija?”

I don’t answer.

I've wasted enough of my breath on you.

“You never do what I expect.”

I glance over my shoulder, meeting his eyes one last time. “That’s because you never knew me.”

I don’t wait for his response.

Gabe moves beside me, silent, the way he always is. But there’s something different in how he carries himself now—less like a man following orders, more like a man who made his choice and knows exactly what it means.

He doesn’t look at Diablo, just stares ahead, and for a moment, I swear I can see a flicker of happiness in his deep blue eyes.

Blaze exhales a breath like he’s holding something back. I don’t know if it’s relief or something else, but I feel the weight of it anyway. I see the tension, the unspoken thoughts turning behind his sharp gaze. If anyone is already mapping out our next move, it’s him.

Thorne barely makes a sound, but I know he’s there, absorbing every last word. Always watching me closely, always reading my mind.

Ryder walks beside me like he’s walking off a battlefield—which, in a way, he is. His stride is easy, loose, but I don’t miss the way he scans the area one last time, like he’s committing it to memory.

It smells like victory. Like endings.

But more than that?

It smells like the start of something new .

Metaphorically, anyway, because literally it still smells like shit, and I swear I'm going to hurl.

I walk toward the car, without hesitation, without second-guessing, without even a flicker of doubt.

I'm leaving behind any notion I had of Diablo as a father and walking ahead.

My empire awaits.