“Pity.” Sergio winked, his dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, pieces of it grazed his chin. He looked like he belonged in a medieval novel.

“Pardon?”

He shrugged. “I was hoping you were the assassin. It would make it so much easier on my conscience to steal you that way. But being already married…” He shook his head. “Really complicates things in my book.”

“Why? Because you’re such a rule follower?” I asked sarcastically.

“Damn you, Abandonato men.” Sergio looked back at Chase. “Always stealing the women before I even get a chance to get in the fight.”

“I’ll make it easy on you,” I said. “You would have lost. It’s probably better for your ego that you weren’t even in the ring.”

“Ouch.” Sergio laughed. “Lucky bastard.” He pulled out his cell phone and pulled up a picture on his screen. “Is this the way the hall looked when you arrived?”

“Are you asking me?” I squinted at the picture.

“Women tend to pay more attention to detail.” Sergio shrugged. “If I asked Chase what color the flowers were, he’d probably shrug and say, there were flowers?”

“Right.” I nodded. “And yes, this is how it looked, though I think the flowers were poinsettias.”

“Of course.” Sergio slid the phone back into his pocket. “This particular hotel changes flowers depending on the season. I’ll get my men on it.” He walked toward the door. “I’ll destroy the evidence on the cameras.”

“Try not to kill anyone in the process,” Chase added. “We have enough dead bodies.”

“Haven’t killed anyone in years. I may have forgotten how,” Sergio joked. With another wink in my direction, he opened the door and left.

“He’s—”

“A ghost.” Chase finished. “According to you, he doesn’t exist.”

“Fine.” I shivered and licked my lips. I think my body was still in shock because I suddenly felt exhausted, like I needed to sit down or lose complete control over my body.

Another knock.

This time the person identified himself. “It’s Nixon.”

Chase still checked the peephole to make sure and then opened the door wide. Nixon and Tex walked in with a few other men I didn’t recognize. Nixon quickly instructed them in a low voice to help Sergio with anything he needed, the door soon clicked shut, the last vision I had was of a body getting put into something black.

This shit was real. I knew, because every time I blinked I imagined it would go away. But it didn’t… If anything, it just made me even sicker to my stomach.

The door was closed. I was trapped in a room with the three remaining members of The Elect. My stepbrother had been part of their inner circle once — and he’d paid with his life. Though that was partially his fault. My father had gotten to him like he got to everyone. Now they were both dead, and I was left to pick up the pieces.

And now I’d been given no choice. I’d known I had a giant target on my back. I just wasn’t aware my number would be up so soon.

“Mil.” Nixon paced in front of me. His crystal blue eyes were like laser beams, making me want to shift in my seat. Light reflected off his lip ring with each tilt of his head. Finally, he pulled a chair from the desk and took a seat. He leaned forward, stretching his white t-shirt across his muscled and tattooed body. “I need to know.”

“Know what?”

He chuckled once and then pulled out his gun, aiming it for my head. Shit.

“What the hell, man!” Chase took a step toward Nixon just as Tex’s arms came around him, rendering him useless. Besides, the poor guy was probably ready to crumple after what he’d just been through.

“No games. No lies. We both know I’d shoot you without hesitation. I’ve done it once. I’d do it again.”

“Don’t remind me.” My voice shook. I swore I could still feel the pain of him shooting me in the leg last year when he’d thought I’d been double-crossing everyone. “What’s the question again?”

Nixon smirked. “I’ve always liked you, Mil.”

“Funny, I’ve always hated you.” I smiled sweetly.

“Lies.” Nixon waved the gun in the air and licked his lips. “Your own family wants you dead. That tells me one thing.”

“They’re pissed?” I offered.

“The De Langes are always pissed.” This from Tex.

I nodded in agreement.

Nixon pulled the chamber back on his pistol. It was still aimed at my head. “They’re afraid.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” I nodded to the gun. “Why do you think I asked for Chase to marry me?”

All eyes fell to Chase; he was still unable to move, since Tex had pinned his arms behind his back, but he managed a shrug. “And here I thought it was my good looks and sexual prowess.”

“Don’t forget cooking skills,” Tex added.

“Helpful.” Chase groaned. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Tex kept his firm grip.

Nixon laughed and returned his attention back to our conversation. “You needed his protection. I get that. Chase gets that. But what I don’t get is how you knew you needed his protection, his help. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I don’t care if you’re the last woman alive. I don’t give a flying rat’s ass if your heart is pure gold, your intentions totally selfless. I will freaking put a bullet in your head if you put my family in jeopardy. So I’m going to ask again. What. Do. You. Know?”

I had to close my eyes. If I kept them open, I’d see the look of betrayal on everyone’s faces — the absolute shock and disgust that my family were spawns of the devil himself. “Everything.” My voice was hoarse. “I know every damn thing.”

Chase

My body relaxed when Nixon lowered the gun. Did I think he’d really shoot her? Yeah. He would. Because I knew it wasn’t just about his family but Trace as well. Hell, he’d kill me if it would keep her safe. And I wouldn’t blame him. I’d probably just look up at him with smiling eyes and tell him he’d done the right thing. Damn, we were a messed up-bunch.

“Everything,” Nixon repeated, nodding his head as he put the safety back on his gun. “What is everything?”

Mil looked at me. Why me, of all people? I tried to give her a reassuring nod.

Her voice was quiet. I hated when she acted docile and compliant; it was so against her character that it pissed me off, making me want to get in a fight with her just so she’d get some of that spark back.

“Sex trafficking.” She swallowed. “My dad was desperate for money. He had a… um, a bit of a drug problem.”

“What drug?” Nixon squinted.

She looked down at her hands. “I think the better question would be what drugs didn’t he have an interest in?”

“So that’s how,” Nixon muttered. “So the family ran out of money really fast, and without our support, it just got worse, I imagine… so he dabbled in prostitution?”

He made it sound like he had it all figured out, but I knew it was just the tip of the iceberg. Mil would never tell him everything all at once; she didn’t work that way. None of us did.

“What we’re dealing with,” she continued. “It’s bigger than just our family, it’s—”

“It’s what?” Nixon asked.

When she didn’t answer, he leveled the gun on her and thumbed off the safety. She rolled her eyes in frustration.

“It’s what?”

“Phoenix tried to protect me,” Mil whispered. “I didn’t know that by taking his protection, by going to school, I was damning him to hell. He was too deep in to see his way out. He found out too much — he discovered the connections my father had made — and by then it was too late.”

“What connections?”

“I can’t say.” Tears formed in her eyes as she looked at each of us in turn. “Please don’t make me say it. Please.”

“Mil.” Nixon’s voice was cold as death. “Please don’t make me force you in front of Chase. Don’t turn me into the villain.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard him say please,” Tex muttered.