“I don’t send my family away out of fear. I fight for them. I honor them. I keep my word to them. And either I’ll succeed, or I’ll fucking die trying.”
I stand tall as he walks toward me. I’m not intimidated by him. If anything, I feel peace. The same peace I felt with Diem. Dorian looks like Dirk. He walks like Dirk. Talks like Dirk. And Diem, she’s Dirk in a woman’s form. This is his blood. His father and his sister. I’d show Dorian respect if he deserved it, but I stand firm behind my words. I’d called him out, and if he kills me, then it will prove that not only is he a coward, but that he is too weak to handle the truth.
“You’re ballsy. You know that?” he asks, a lethal gleam in his eyes, but I see a hint of respect there too. “But you’re right. I am a coward. I took the easy way out. But one day you will have children of your own, and you will find that sometimes being a coward is worth more than your pride.” He looks at my brothers, taking a moment to stare each of them in the eyes. “I thank you for what you did. And it gives me great honor to know that my son was so well loved and respected. If he was the man you say he was, then I couldn’t be more proud of him than I am in this moment.”
With a lift of his chin, several men surround the members of Death Mob, knocking them all to their knees. He looks down at Cyrus, who’s fighting hard to keep his shit together. “I’ve waited months to do this. But now that everything is in place, I want you to know what is fixing to happen,” Dorian starts, drawing the words out painfully slow. “You are going to die. Your club will cease to exist. Sinner’s Creed will take over your territory and Death Mob will not even be a memory. Killing your men will not bring my son back, but it will bring me great joy.”
“Dorian,” Jimbo calls, and I take a deep breath as I prepare for what he is fixing to say. “With all due respect, I believe that Cyrus’s life should be taken by us. I believe I’m standing next to a brother who deserves this honor.” As my eyes meet Dorian’s, I think about Dirk. About what this means for his death. But more than that, I think about Diem. She’d just found out who I was. She knows that I’m a killer. That I’m a monster. That I have an incurable disease that blackens my soul. But she’s never watched me pull the trigger. And more than anything, I’m afraid that once she witnesses what I’m capable of, she will never be able to remember me as the man I was with her—only as a monster.
I drag my gaze to Diem, whose face is completely unreadable. I try to ask her with my eyes what she will think of me, but she gives nothing away. I’ve never seen her so distant. It’s as if she’s trying to remain unattached, especially in this moment.
“I understand that, Jimbo. But you see, I’ve already promised this to someone else. And I never make a promise that I don’t keep.” Dorian hands the gun to Diem, who offers him a nod. She’s not nervous or shaky and there is no fear in her eyes, only a burning desire for the same thing I’ve been wanting for months—revenge.
She steps in front of Cyrus without hesitation, then lifts her arm. And just like that—boom, the bullet hits him right between his eyes.
His body falls limply to the floor. A weight seems to lift off me at the sight. But it’s replaced by a feeling of remorse for Diem. Moments pass before she looks away, and her eyes seek me out. She holds my gaze, telling me everything she can’t say in words. I see her past. I feel her pain. And my soul rejoices with hers.
I know who she is. I see myself in her eyes. I realize that in this moment, I have nothing to worry about. Diem will not look at me any different. She can’t. Because just like me, my woman, my love, my Diem, is a cold-blooded killer too.
22
THE RIDE BACK to Jackpot is silent—and I appreciate the hell out of it. My thoughts come clearer at a hundred miles per hour down an open highway than anywhere else. The first one, I’m still trying to wrap my head around.
I’m alive.
I’d woke up this morning thinking it would be my last day on earth. Part of me was relieved. I would finally get that sense of peace I’d always longed for. But fate had different plans. Which reminds me of the second thought that’s in my head and weighs heavy on my heart.
Diem.
The Mafiusa.
She’s not a pharmaceutical sales rep—she’s a fucking drug dealer. Her daddy’s not in prison—he’s the don of the Underground Mafia. She’s not powerful and persuasive and conniving because she’s a bitch—it’s because her life made her that way. And even though she’s not who I thought she was, I still love her. Maybe even more now than I did then.