BECKETT

THE INFORMATION you need is waiting for you at the

Retribution Kings’ headquarters.

Corsi’s words play in my head over and over.

Odette, I’m coming.

I race out of the Phantom Brotherhood’s club as soon as Vincent Corsi’s men leave, following Vicent and his daughter. I don’t look back to see if Caius and the rest are following me; I just dart out the door. I don’t even know where exactly the headquarters is, but I have to get there as fast as possible.

The prospect of finding out what happened to Odette doesn’t stop the twinge of guilt from squeezing in my chest as I watch the raven—haired woman with the fierce mouth climb into the car. Her destiny has always been this. Ri couldn’t run forever, not from a man like her father.

But it won’t sit well with Odette that I sacrificed Ri in order to save her, and I want to be the best man I can for Odette. I’ll worry about helping Ri after I get Odette back. She has to be my sole focus now. Ri isn’t in any real danger. It’s not like her father is going to hurt her; he’ll just marry her off to a corrupt monster.

“This way,” Gage says, grabbing my arm as we hit the street. He shoves me into the passenger seat of a car and then climbs into the back. Caius is already in the driver’s seat while the other three settle into the back; then, we are speeding off.

“How far?” I growl, my hand gripping the handle of the door, ready to jump out the second the car stops.

“Five minutes,” Caius responds, driving faster. He wants to find out what happened to his sister as much as I do.

My knee bounces up and down rapidly. I’ve spent a week without Odette.

A week spending every moment looking for her.

A week worrying about the danger she was in.

A week without sleep.

A week not knowing if she was alive.

A week wondering if she even loves me.

I’m about to find out the truth.

My agreement with Vincent is that he will provide me the information and resources to get her back. She might very well be at the headquarters, and if not, then at least I’ll finally have the information I need to get her back.

Then, I can face my future. Then, I can find out if my love is enough. Does she truly want me? Or did she just marry me out of duty to her family, to the Retribution Kings?

Caius stops the car on the side of the road. I throw the door open and run into the skyscraper. I make it to the elevator banks before anyone else and hit the button repeatedly while the rest catch up before the doors finally open.

We pile in, and Lennox hits the button for the fifteenth floor.

I close my eyes, thinking of Odette’s smile on our wedding day. It seemed so genuine, so true. But was it?

My hands shake, my brow drips in sweat, and my heart —oh, my fucking heart doesn’t know whether it’s finally about to heal or break into a million pieces.

The doors open, and I rush out, not having a clue where I’m going, but it doesn’t stop me. We are on an office floor. I pass cubicles until I find what looks like an important office.

The door is locked.

There’s no time.

I break the door down before Caius has time to get a key out. Their heavy breaths behind me tell me I’m right — this is the office I should be breaking down doors to enter.

Odette isn’t in the room.

There is a manila envelope on the desk. I grab it and shove my hand inside to pull out the contents—a letter and a picture. The picture is lying on top of the letter, and it drops me to my knees.

I let out a guttural scream, the kind that if this were a movie, I’d release a great shadow over the world, create a mystical monster out of my grief, or at the very least shatter every piece of glass in this building.

None of that happens, but it feels the same leaving my body.

The scream goes on and on until I’m shaking and tears wreck my body. But I don’t let go of the picture or the letter. I need to read the letter, but I can’t, not yet.

My chest heaves, rising and falling rapidly as I grip the picture tighter and stare at my beautiful wife lying on a concrete floor with her brains blown out.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remember Odette before this picture, but this is the image that will haunt me. And I deserve to be haunted.

I saved the wrong girl. I wasted time believing that Ri was the key to finding Odette, when I should have found Odette on my own. I should have spent every moment on her. I deserve to be punished.

The room slowly comes back into my view.

I don’t know how long I’ve been kneeling in pain. Tears continue to speed down my face like hot oil, and my agony tears through my lungs with each excruciating scream.

Lennox is the only one still standing. He rubs his face, not looking at anyone, afraid he’ll completely break if he does. Gage and Hayes are gripping onto each other as they quietly sob.

But Caius—he sits stone—faced, his back leaning against the wall of windows. If he cried or showed any emotion, it has long left his face.

“Who was it?” Caius asks, his voice cool as ice.

I stare at the photo. There is no obvious evidence of where she died or who shot her. She’s still in her wedding dress, which somehow makes it worse. My blood boils thinking about the life we could have had together—if only. So many if onlys.

“My guess is Corsi,” Lennox says, wiping his tears on the back of his shirt sleeve.

The room silently nods its agreement, but I shift my focus to the letter and read Corsi’s assessment.

· · ·

We found her body in the basement of the Phantom Brotherhood. She died the night of your wedding. They took no chances. Ares knew he couldn’t get my daughter to marry him and that I would never honor an alliance between his crew and my empire. But he knew that you were powerful enough to pique my interest. He thought that with your wife dead, you would be happy to marry my daughter and form an alliance that would benefit him. As you know, I ensured that Ares met his fate. And you have my blessing to seek retribution against the entire Phantom Brotherhood.

You have my sympathy on the loss of your wife and my gratitude for the safe return of my daughter. It’s been a pleasure working with you.

—Vincent Corsi

I crumple up the piece of paper and toss it at the door with a growl.

All eyes fall on me.

“Corsi blames Ares.”

“No way. That bastard didn’t have the balls or the foresight to take her and kill her,” Hayes says.

Everyone mumbles their agreement.

“It has to be Corsi,” I say.

I stand up, pacing the room as I think through what happens next.

“Of course it was Corsi,” a deep voice says from the doorway.

Slowly, my eyes drift to him, scared to death to face this man. He’s wearing slacks and a sharp buttoned—down shirt. A cane at his side helps him stand, a cane he wasn’t using at the wedding. His gray hair seems to have whitened, and the lines around his eyes seemed to have deepened overnight. He’s frailer than he was a week ago. That’s what your impending death will do to you. And I suspect the news of his daughter’s death with be what finishes him.

I open my mouth, but I can’t speak. I can’t tell him. I’ve barely accepted the truth myself, and only because I have the damn picture.

“I know my daughter’s dead. I was working in the conference room. I heard your screams—people only make that sound when they lose the other half of their soul,” Michael Monroe, Odette’s father says.

“Sir, I’m so sorry. I failed at protecting her. I’m not worthy—”

“Shush,” he silences me as he steps into the room with a strength I don’t understand. He picks up the crumpled paper, and then walks over to take the picture I still grip in my hand. He slowly loosens my grip to remove the picture. I should stop him from looking; it will break him.

But he doesn’t shed a tear. If others observed a father not crying at the loss of his daughter, they might call him cold, heartless, a monster. But Michael Monroe is none of those things. He’s just strong. He has to be in order to be the leader of the Retribution Kings.

After studying the picture and letter, he looks to me. “What will you do for my daughter now?”

“I will get retribution. I will go to the ends of the earth to ensure everyone who had a hand in her death pays for

their crime. I will ensure she rests in peace.”

“Good, you’re ready.”

“What?”

He puts his hands on both of my shoulders and stares deep into my eyes. “Do you know why they call us Retribution Kings?”

I shake my head. “Because we believe revenge is more powerful than blood. We vow to set wrongs right. We aren’t the good guys. Instead, we get revenge like kings. We derive our power from taking vengeance against those who cross us. And we always get justice. Anyone who crosses us always pays—usually, with their life. You seeking retribution for Odette, your incredible loss, makes you the perfect man to lead us.”

“You still want me to…to take your place as leader?”

“Yes, I have no doubt. Your initiation will start soon, but your final task will be to get retribution for Odette. Do

that and my kingdom is yours.”

“I don’t want—”

He shakes his head. “Being the king of the Retribution Kings is an honor and a burden. You’re going to need their help, and they’re going to need you. And you’re going to need a purpose when this is all over.”

I look at Caius, who still hasn’t broken, just like his father. He should be the leader. But I need to do this. I need to be the one to bring Vincent, his men, Ri, and every other person involved in Odette’s death to justice.

Me.

I can’t leave it to Caius. I have to be the one. So if it means I get the power when it’s over, then so be it. I’ll do whatever it takes, even if I have to betray them all to honor Odette in her death.

“How do you plan on getting retribution? How do we find out who did this? How do we make them pay?” Caius asks me.

They all have more experience at getting revenge in this town, but as I stare into all of their hardened eyes, I know that we can do this together. “I have an idea—a game.”

Their lips twist up in wicked curls.

“A way to ruin Corsi, his family, any men involved, and Ri.”

I wait for them to defend her, to say she had nothing to do with this. But none of them come to her defense.

I tell them my idea, and together we brainstorm the best way to execute it.

A contest to take them all down.

The best way to get to Corsi is through Ri. The best way to make the others weak is Ri. Whether Ri is involved or not—she will pay a price.

I’ll convince him to start a game. A game that will help him control his rivals and prevent an all—out war that Monroe said has been brewing. A game I can win.

Win his daughter.

His empire.

Then destroy them all.

We have a plan. Now it’s time to execute. I pick up my phone and call Corsi, hoping he still thinks I’m on his side and that I want to offer my thanks instead of carve his heart out.

I tip back the burning scotch. The alcohol is the only thing keeping me going at this point. It’s the only thing keeping me from crumbling to the ground and dissolving in a puddle of my own tears.

A waiter quickly refills my glass. I’m sure Corsi told the staff to keep the alcohol flowing—a sure—fire way to get these men to fall into his hands and the plan I gave him. He invited us all here—every gangster, elite, monster in the city. We are all here. Now it’s time to see if he enacts my plan as his own.

This time the scotch barely burns my throat as I take another gulp. It numbs my feelings remarkably well, but it doesn’t erase the image in my head. I can only see the image of Odette lying on the floor with a bullet in her head.

I don’t even have her body—nothing to bury.

I will find her.

I will get retribution.

I will destroy them all.

I lean back in my chair as I adjust my tie. The tux is scratchy and suffocating, but it’s a necessary facade to play the role. Corsi thinks I want his daughter, that I’ll prove myself worthy during this game. He doesn’t know I’m playing him like a pawn. I’m using them both to find out what happened to Odette and bring her body home to rest. And if he or his daughter are in any way responsible, as I suspect, I’ll burn everything he loves to the ground.

Gage eyes me as I finish another drink. His scowl says I’ve had enough, but he doesn’t speak his judgment. He doesn’t realize there is no way for me to get drunk, not when my heart aches like it does. My heart ensures that I stay sober.

My eyes drift to the others at the table. Gage’s tux fits him perfectly. Hayes is wearing a navy blue suit, looking cool and sharp in it. Lennox is wearing a gray suit, but he’s already removed the jacket. His sleeves are rolled up like he doesn’t give a shit that this is supposed to be a black—tie affair.

And Caius sits perfectly still in his tux. He still hasn’t shown any emotion, not one damn tear. He’s barely spoken as well. Everyone mourns in different ways, but a tidal wave is waiting to crush him the moment he finally lets himself feel.

The doors at the back of the ballroom suddenly open, and Corsi and Rialta walk in surrounded by their guards. Corsi wears a tux that exudes his power and wealth, signaling that he is the king. Rialta shines as a dark princess in her slinky black lace dress that exposes the skin around her sides and swirls around her hips, leaving a train of sparkly lace at the back. Her tiara sits firmly on her head, and she walks without fear by her father’s side.

My eyes lock on her as she walks, studying her closely, trying to understand if she is the broken daughter of a monster afraid for her life and future, or if she’s a proud, dangerous princess who willingly does her father’s bidding.

She’s fooled me before; I won’t let her fool me again. I try to look through to her heart to see if it’s as black as her father’s, but I can’t tell.

They walk up onto the stage at the end of the room. And then Vincent Corsi starts speaking.

“Thank you all for gathering. As you know, we have several important things to discuss. First, I’d like you to celebrate the safe return of my daughter, Rialta Corsi.”

The crowd starts applauding, but I don’t. No one at my table does. Maybe we should to avoid any blowback, but there will be no cheering or happiness until I have the man who killed Odette’s blood on my hand.

“Now, for the less than happy news. As you all know, Rialta was set to be married to Nicolo Ricci on her twentyfirst birthday.”

The room drops silent, and Rialta’s eyes widen in terror. The room is so quiet that I swear I can hear her heartbeat even from here. She’s petrified.

Good.

“But it is with a heavy heart that I have to report that Nicolo has been murdered.”

Corsi probably murdered him just so the bastard could arrange this game. When I called him, I could hear his giddiness at the thought of being able to control so many men at once.

“My daughter’s safety has been at risk over this last week, but the Retribution Kings ensured her safe return. And they helped me create a plan for how to keep her safe forever.”

Corsi nods his head toward me to offer his thanks. I merely look at him with a bored expression, like saving his daughter meant nothing to me.

“My daughter is in need of a husband, one who will keep her safe.” Here we go.

“With such a prize as my daughter at stake, there are bound to be fights breaking out. So to ensure the best man for the job wins, I’ve devised a game. It will keep my daughter safe and prevent fighting amongst ourselves outside of the game. The winner gets to marry my daughter.”

I watch in twisted enjoyment as Rialta squirms on the stage. My sinister heart grins as she tries to get her panicked breathing under control.

Maybe she isn’t her father’s stooge? Maybe she truly is innocent?

Doesn’t matter, not anymore. Odette’s gone.

“I’m sure you are wondering what the rules are, but that will have to wait. For now, know this—any man here can enter, only one will win. If you enter and lose…well, I don’t recommend losing.” He smirks.

The crowd chuckles in response to his joke. No one at my table laughs.

“Enter however many men from your gang that you dare, but you must follow my rules. If you don’t, there will be consequences.” He snaps his fingers, and an image appears on a screen behind us of Ares dead from a gunshot.

The image doesn’t bring me any comfort because I don’t believe that Ares killed Odette. The image fades.

“There are cards on your table. If you would like to enter the game, sign your name in blood, and then bring your card to the stage. Place it in the bowl in my beautiful daughter’s hands.”

A bowl is placed in Rialta’s trembling hands.

Oh, my beautiful Princess, how I’m going to enjoy breaking you.

I turn to my table as men at surrounding tables start rushing to put their names in the bowl in Rialta’s hands. Stupid fools think they have a shot at winning this game. All that awaits them is shame, pain, and probably death.

I grab one of the cards in the middle of the table. I prick my thumb with my pocketknife and sign my name on the card.

A movement catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

“Entering,” Caius says coldly.

“You don’t get to enter. As your leader, I forbid it.”

“You can’t stop me.”

He stands up. I do as well, getting in his face.

“If you want to remain in the Retribution Kings, you will do as I say. Sit down.”

“No, Odette was my sister. I deserve retribution as much as you do. If we both enter, we have twice the spies in this game, twice the chances of winning. I have to do this for Odette.”

I breathe loudly.

I don’t like it, but I can see his grief hiding in the shadows. He’ll let it explode out of him if I don’t let him enter. He needs this as much as I do.

I step out of his way. I’ll let him enter, but it doesn’t mean I’ll let him win. Rialta is mine. Mine to win. Mine to torture. Mine to destroy.

Caius walks up on the stage, and I turn to the rest of the guys. “Don’t even think about entering.” Then I follow him up on the stage.

Rialta doesn’t notice me at first. She’s too upset about Caius entering, recognizing that this a bloodshed game as much as it is a game for her heart.

But then she spots me.

Her breath catches. Her heart pumps louder. Her lustful gaze quickly turns to rage as her jaw tightens.

I stop right in front of her.

Her eyes widen in shock, and a deep frown mars her pretty lips.

“Did you find Odette?”

I don’t answer her. Instead, I hold my hand out over the bowl.

She blinks, not registering what I’m doing until I release my grip and my card drops into the bowl.

Her eyes look deep into mine, not understanding why in the hell I would enter. It takes her a moment, her eyes racing back and forth, trying to read my face.

Odette’s dead, her eyes shoot into me as she realizes.

I give the tiniest of nods. I’m not even sure she notices, but her reaction is real, authentic. She didn’t know that Odette was dead. Whatever role she played, she didn’t know that Odette was killed as a result.

What game are you playing, Princess?

I can see her mind whirling with thoughts, trying to figure out my endgame, but quickly her gaze shifts.

Hope—I see hope in her eyes.

She wants me to win. Wants me to play hero. Wants me to save her.

If she thought I was cold before, she has no idea who I am now. Odette made me a better man. Without her, there is nothing left of me but a cruel, cold heart. I’m a man set on revenge, revenge Rialta can help me with. If she’s waiting on me to play hero, she’s going to be waiting a long time.

I lean in and whisper, “I call these the Retribution Games. I’m about to kill everyone that had anything to do with her death. Sorry if a little blood splatters on your pretty tiara, Princess.”

She shivers as my words cover her.

Be afraid, Princess, be very afraid. You think I’m better than the rest of these pricks, but you’re wrong. There is nothing left but the devil’s soul inside me, and I plan on unleashing it upon the world.