When Corden Nash took over as the crime lord of New Jersey, he swore he'd never fall in love. His one goal in mind has been to burn Rafino Rossi and everything he's ever built into the ground after murdering his father. But when Carmen Abdullahi sho...
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Drip, drip, drip.
The blood stains the concrete—a slow flow to fill the silence in the room.
Another one of my men lost.
Another faithful employee killed by Rafino's hand. Well, maybe not his hand, but whoever he hired to do it. It's another attack against me. Another warning to stay away and allow him to run this city into the ground.
Not going to happen.
"He's getting creative." Delano, my most trusted and senior employee, eyes Lyonel's body which is currently hanging upside down from the ceiling. His eyes are wide with terror, a knife protruding through his skull. Lyonel was a good man. He had a wife and kids and offered to snoop around Rafinio's territory for information. Now he's dead, and the guilt every death brings me never seems to lessen.
"Very," I mutter. "Delivery included." Whoever Rafino hired to kill Lyonel decided to drop him off in one of our delivery locations—the freezer of a deli market in Brooklyn. The butcher called me frantically when he saw Lyonel strung up next to other slabs of meat.
Sickening.
"He doesn't like that we're getting closer." Delano, holding bleach in one hand and a pair of gloves in the other, steps closer to Lyonel. Formerly my father's right hand, his loyalty transferred to me without question after the tragic passing of my father. To the rest of New York, Patrick Nash killed himself in the office of Nash Enterprises, our family's successful hotel chain, but I knew the truth. The feud between Rafino and my father has been ongoing for years. And while my father's passing may have been intentional, it wasn't his doing.
Rafino killed my father, and in due time, he'll be dead, too.
"He can run, but he can't hide for long." I frown at Lyonel's body, turning my back from it to face Delano. "Can you handle the cleanup, or do you need help?"
"Have I ever needed help?"
No, he hasn't. He's been cleaning up my father's dirty work for years and now mine for one. Sometimes, I feel heshould have taken over this operation. Half of what I've learned has been from him. A few months before my father was killed, he let me in on his mission to save this city from the crime and abominations festering due to Rafino. Back then, I was too stunned by his secret life to pay attention. Now I know it was because he had a feeling something was going to happen to him, and rather than bringing my brother Lincoln into it, who had always dreamed of becoming a cop, he entrusted me with his secret instead.
"We're the good guys here," Delano reminds me. "Don't forget that."
I run a hand along the back of my neck and shake my head. "Sometimes it doesn't seem that way."
With every death, I feel more shame. The lives I've taken have been for good reasons. Criminals, rapists, killers, I've racked my body count up high enough to forget the number at this point. All of it has been for the good of this city, but at what cost? Rafino still lives, and my hands keep getting bloodier.
