Heartless Prince by Brook Wilder

Chapter 53

Lucas

 

After another shitty night on the yacht alone, I woke with a clearer understanding of my feelings for Leda.

 

I was falling for her, if not already in love with her. The thought was terrifying. But the way that we had acted toward each other last night had only cemented that reality.

 

Too bad I wasn’t able to tell her the truth.

 

As I nursed my hangover, I thought about everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Nothing yet from Adrian about Enzo’s death. That had been a rash act. It was an escalation, and only time would tell if it was truly necessary. I had fired the first shot—figuratively and literally—in the war that would rip apart the Cavazzo Mafia.

 

It would accelerate Adrian’s plans to seize control.

 

I needed to focus on what mattered most. The longer I held onto Leda, the less likely the two of us would survive the coming storm.

 

Rubbing a hand over my face, I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. I looked and felt like total shit. The man in the mirror who returned my stare was a man hell-bent on recovering what was lost to him, but at a loss on how to do so.

 

I wanted to go back in time and take back every second of the other night when I thought it was a good idea to hurt Leda in a pathetic attempt to push her away.

 

And last night…

 

I looked down at my finger. The wound left by her teeth was angry and red. It started to scab over, but it was a reminder of just how far either of us was willing to go to hurt each other.

 

How far I went.

 

I took a deep shuddering breath and closed my eyes, only to immediately open them as the room started to spin.

 

She made me lose control. And in that single moment of weakness, I had put my hands on her in a way that I never thought I would.

 

The moment she bit me, reason went out the window and I reacted on instinct. Retaliate.

 

I hadn’t meant to slap her, and once I did, there would be no going back.

 

The thing was: she liked it. No matter how much she cursed me, I knew that deep down, she craved it. It was the same dark streak that I saw in Leda the first time I made her submit. The same dark streak that liked the violence and rough sex that most shied away from.

 

I wasn’t the only one who lost control last night.

 

She had been like a wildcat, and gave everything to me. Though I had walked away last night, physically sated, I woke this morning with a gaping hole in my heart that I knew only she could fill.

 

The truth was: I wanted her completely, heart and soul. I wanted there to be no doubt that she was mine.

 

But I couldn’t figure out how to fucking keep her.

 

“Fuck,” I muttered before splashing water on my face to clear my head.

 

Life hadn’t been this complicated before she became a part of it. I shouldn’t have made that decision when I saw her on the auction block. She was supposed to be a tool. Instead, she stole my heart. 

 

Love wasn’t something I had bargained for. It wasn’t something that I wanted to feel. Feelings were a weakness in my world, and the very thought of having a weakness meant that I couldn’t be a Don effectively.

 

Cosimo had been clear on that very point the last time we had discussed the meaning of power. He eschewed all weakness, and tossed aside anything that could have been used against him. Yes, he had had dalliances and illegitimate children, but the man lived and breathed the Mafia.

 

Which in turn, I was supposed to do the same.

 

But now, I realized just how fucking lonely of an existence all of this would be.

 

But what choice did I have? If I couldn’t hold my title as Don, I would have no means of defending myself or Leda. I had a dilemma on my hands, a choice to make. And no matter which one I picked, I would lose the other.

 

I didn’t want to push Leda away. I tried, and realized the pain was worse than anything else in the world. It was hell sleeping on this yacht without her, with the only consolation being the knowledge that she was safe in my penthouse.

 

I hadn’t resorted to watching the live security feeds of my place yet. But another night alone, and I might be turning them on.

 

A knock outside of my bedroom door demanded my attention and I took a deep breath, swallowed two Advils to deal with the pounding headache, and grabbed my suit coat from the bed where I had laid it earlier.

 

I was all business when I opened the door, and found Rocco standing there.

 

“What?”

 

“Emil is here,” Rocco said dryly. “He says he needs to talk to you.”

 

I shrugged on my coat, adjusting the cuffs. “Then by all means, let’s talk.”

 

If Emil was here, something was wrong, and my gut twisted at the thought. I would bet this yacht that it was something I wasn’t going to like.

 

Rocco showed me to the upper level of the yacht, where Emil stood at the railing. Another summer storm was brewing in the distance over New York harbor, and the air felt heavy with the threat of rain.

 

“Emil,” I greeted him.

 

“Don,” he replied as he turned to me and dipped his head. “I went to the penthouse, but the guards said you were here.”

 

“This couldn’t have been a phone call?” I asked. 

 

“I figured it was best to tell you this news in person.”

 

Well, fuck. “All right,” I said. “What do you have to tell me?”

 

Emil’s jaw clenched. “Someone has been in the vault.”

 

I felt a chill cut through me. The vault was just a name for a locked storehouse deep in the city that I kept a small surplus of money and weapons in. It was my last-resort stash, in case I needed some reserves in a deal or bribe. The cache was also meant to be an emergency fund.

 

“How much was taken?” I asked lightly.

 

Emil swallowed. “All of it.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Emil nodded. “I went there myself to check. There’s nothing left.”

 

I turned away from the railing, my fists clenched tightly. I wanted to hit something. The vault wasn’t just money. It had plenty of weapons too.

 

Adrian. I immediately thought. It had to be Adrian. He knew I caught onto his little operation and now he was hitting me where it hurt the most.

 

Well, almost where it hurt the most.

 

“The cameras were disabled,” Emil continued. “And the memory wiped from the access panel. Whoever did it was thorough. The discs were burnt to a crisp and sitting on a pile of magnets. No way to recover them.”

 

His voice trailed off as I stared at the city in the distance. A streak of lightning flashed in the distance. War was coming. I was sure of it.

 

“Who else knows?” I asked.

 

“Just the three of us,” Emil stated. “And whoever pulled the shit. I haven’t made my rounds yet, but if I had to guess, I’d say Adrian and the boys in the Battery as well.”

 

So it was going to be like that. Maybe I should’ve taken Rocco’s advice from the get-go. Cruelty rather than leniency.

 

“That’s not all.”

 

I turned to face him. “What?”

 

He didn’t flinch at my hard words. “Three of our spots in the Lower East were hit last night right as they were closing. Cash drawers were taken. Two guards killed.”

 

Fuck me. Adrian was moving fast. I turned and put my fist through the nearest window, the glass cutting my knuckles on impact. I barely felt the pinprick of the cuts as the glass slid through my skin. Bitterness ran through me. In just a few days while I was distracted by Leda, Adrian had managed to take advantage of my absence.

 

My plans were falling apart at the seams, and there seemed to be nothing I could do.

 

No. I refused to give up. Not now. I might not have been the pick Adrian and the traitors wanted to take Cosimo’s place, but the old man wanted me there. No one was going to stop me.

 

“Double the guards,” I said, not bothering to stop the steady flow of blood dripping from my fist. “And put out the word. From this moment on, Adrian is now persona non grata. If anyone, and I fucking mean anyone, is caught working on his orders, they’ll answer to me personally.”

 

“Yes, Don,” Emil said. “I’ll put the word out. Anything else?”

 

“Get a list of who’s still loyal. Tell the Lower East capos to be ready for war.”

 

I want Adrian’s head on a platter. I thought bitterly. I want all of the traitor capos dead, and their bodies hanging off the Brooklyn Bridge.

 

He had pushed me too far, or maybe I had let him get away with shit that I should have stopped months ago. I wanted peace, but trying to keep the peace was proving to be nothing more than a losing battle.

 

Rocco held out a towel to me. I took it and nodded in gratitude. “That’ll be all. Get to it. We don’t have much time.”

 

“Yes, Don.”

 

Emil took his leave, and I was alone on the deck of the yacht with Rocco. I couldn’t help but glance at the city towards the direction of my penthouse. Anger dissolved into something else, something akin to weariness.

 

I knew I wasn’t the Don that these fuckers wanted. But now that I was in the position, I wasn’t about to lose it. Adrian thought he could just run his fucking mouth, and replace me at the first sign of weakness?

 

No, he just kicked the hornet’s nest.

 

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to put him in a shallow grave and piss on his corpse. There would be no turning back now.

 

“Let’s go.” I said to Rocco.

 

“Where?”

 

“City. We’re going to sit down with Adrian and talk terms of his surrender.”