Savannah huffed beside me, shifting her weight in frustration, but I pinched her arm sharply. A silent warning. No one could know we were listening to this conversation. If Father found out, he would lose his mind. We pressed ourselves against the cold stone wall, barely daring to breathe, the dim glow from the peephole casting a sliver of light onto our tense faces.
"They are good soldiers, both of them. Rico is Emily's cousin, and Salvatore has been by my side for almost two decades," Father said, his voice steady, authoritative.
"I'd like to decide for myself if I trust them," Liam countered, his tone cool, unreadable. My breath hitched. That was as close to an insult as he could get without outright disrespecting Father. A challenge, wrapped in indifference.
Father's lips pressed into a thin line, a flicker of annoyance darkening his features, but he gave a curt nod. He wasn't pleased, but he wouldn't deny Liam this. Not in front of an audience. Not with the weight of power shifting in the room.
Liam stepped toward Salvatore, his movements unhurried but deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. "I hear you're good with a knife."
"The best," Father interjected, pride laced in his words.
Liam's jaw tightened, his fingers flexing at his sides. "Not as good as your brother, from what I hear."
Salvatore inclined his head toward Rafael, who lounged in his chair, a smirk curling his lips. The gleam in his eyes was sharp, amused—like he was waiting for something entertaining to happen.
"But better than any other man in our territory," Salvatore admitted, his voice unwavering.
Liam stared him down, his gaze weighing, assessing. "Are you married?"
Salvatore nodded once. "For twenty-one years."
"That's a long time," Rafael mused, flashing his teeth. "Emily must look awfully tempting compared to your old wife."
My stomach twisted in disgust. The room held its breath.
Salvatore's hand twitched toward the holster at his waist. A movement so slight, so instinctive, yet everyone caught it. Father remained still, watching closely but not intervening.
Salvatore cleared his throat, his voice like steel. "I've known Emily since she was born. She is a child."
"She won't be a child for much longer," Liam murmured, a quiet promise woven into his words.
Salvatore's stare hardened. "She will always be a child in my eyes. And I am faithful to my wife." He turned his glare on Rafael. "If you insult my wife again, I will ask Marcus for permission to challenge you in a knife fight to defend her honor. And I will kill you."
A thick, suffocating silence fell over the room. The kind that made the air too dense, too charged with unspoken threats.
Rafael tilted his head, amusement flickering behind his sharp gaze. "You could try," he said, his grin widening. "But you would not succeed."
Liam crossed his arms and gave a slow, approving nod. "You're a good choice, Salvatore."
Salvatore stepped back, but the tension between him and Rafael crackled like a live wire. A silent promise of unfinished business.
Then Liam turned to Rico, and whatever restraint he'd shown before vanished. He moved in close, his presence swallowing Rico whole. My cousin had to tilt his head back just to meet Liam's gaze. He tried to look unaffected, but next to Liam, he was nothing more than a trembling pup facing a lion.
Father's gaze sharpened. "He's family. Are you really going to accuse him of having an interest in my daughter?"
"I saw how he looked at Emily," Liam said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
"Like a peach he wanted to pluck," Rafael added, delighting in the rising tension.
Rico's gaze darted to Father, desperate for protection. None came.
"Don't deny it," Liam growled. "I know want when I see it. And you want Emily."
Rico's face darkened with rage. "You're not even part of the Chicago syndicate. No one would tell you anything even if I fucked her."
My blood turned to ice.
Rico sneered, pushing further. "I could break her in for you. Maybe I'll even record it."
The world snapped.
In the space of a breath, Liam had Rico thrown to the ground, his knee pressing into his spine. Rico writhed, cursed, but Liam held him down effortlessly. One of his hands locked around Rico's wrist while the other reached beneath his jacket, withdrawing a knife.
The blade gleamed under the chandelier light.
"Go now," I whispered to Savannah. But she was frozen.
Look away, Emily.
But I couldn't.
Father watched, impassive. He wouldn't stop this. Would he?
Liam met Father's eyes. A silent question. A final request for permission.
Father gave a single nod.
Liam didn't hesitate.
The knife came down, severing flesh from bone. Rico's pinky hit the floor, the soft thud drowned by his agonized scream. My stomach churned. The room blurred. My pulse roared in my ears. I bit my fist to keep from making a sound, but Savannah wasn't as strong.
A bloodcurdling scream ripped from her throat, shattering the silence before she doubled over, vomiting onto the steps.
The room behind the door went deathly still.
They had heard us.
My fingers dug into Savannah's arms as the hidden door was yanked open.
Father stood there, fury radiating off him like heat from an open flame. Behind him, Jace and another soldier had their weapons drawn, their gazes cold and assessing.
The moment their eyes landed on us, their hands moved back to their holsters.
Shit.