Savage Mafia King (Vicious Heirs #3)

Chapter Seventeen—Marcus

"You sure this is a good idea?"

I can't count the number of times she's asked me that as we approach the final confrontation with my uncle. I stare at the road ahead of me, where the lines have started to blur into each other as we drive.

"Yes."

I've already made my mind up. When Isabella returned from the meeting with my uncle to tell me that he wants to be the one to take me out himself, I knew that I had to see it through. I'm going to meet with him, and I'm going to finish this, once and for all.

I'm going to kill him.

I've already talked to Giovanni and Valentina about this, and they're in total agreement about how I intend to go about this. Cutting off the Castellano connection to the family is going to give us space to consolidate our power and control what happens next. Taking out more of our family isn't exactly how I want to have to go about this, but our uncle has given us no choice. He's going to kill me, and then he's going to come after them. If we don't make the first move, then we're going to be destroyed.

And I'm not going to let that happen, not when, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I have something real worth living for.

I glance over at Isabella, who is chewing on her lip again. I'm putting a hell of a lot of trust in her. Giovanni was quick to point that out when I explained our plan and how it has unfolded so far.

"You really think you can believe what she's saying to you? You can be sure she's not playing both sides?"

I gritted my teeth when he came out with that. I knew he was just trying to look out for me, but having someone doubt her like that... it doesn't sit right with me.

"We'll find out, one way or another. Either she's loyal to me like she said, or she's not."

"And you're willing to put so much on the line to find out?"

I nodded. I wasn't going to let him try to shake me, not when I had come so far—and not when I knew that my life was already in so much danger.

Which is part of the reason I'm going through with this at all, honestly. I've been holed up in my apartment, hiding out from whatever is waiting for me out there, and I'm sure as hell not going to let things continue that way. I need to be out on the streets, I need to be active. Shit, I need to finish my classes for this semester, and I won't be able to pull that off if I'm hiding out in my penthouse, praying that nobody figures out where I've been staying all this time.

As far as James is concerned, Isabella is on his side. I've seen the texts he's sent to her, and they've pissed me off to no end, seeing the lecherous way he talks to her, like it's only a matter of getting me out of the way before he claims her for himself. It makes me fucking sick. I never would have put my uncle down for being such a pig, but it looks like there are some people you just can't trust, no matter how certain you might feel about kin being stronger than the temptation of anything else.

She's convinced him to meet her at an abandoned block of apartments at the edge of the city, somewhere that nobody will think to look for him—or for me, for that matter. I've rented a car to drive in under the cover of night, but I'm well aware that there's a price on my head, and there's every chance that someone could spot me and take me out so they can bring my head to the Castellanos.

I can feel the fear coming off Isabella in waves as we round the corner to the apartment block. It's been empty for years now, a few of the windows smashed and ivy creeping up one side of the concrete, like the earth is reaching up to reclaim it. I pull the car to a halt, and Isabella pulls out her phone once more, checking the message he sent her.

"He's in room 101," she tells me quietly.

I reach for the gun that I stashed in the dashboard and pull it out, weighing it in my hands. Gio got it for me. I try not to carry firearms if I can avoid it, too much of a risk of something going wrong, but right now, I have to be ready to move. And fast.

"What's going to happen when we get inside?" she wonders aloud, and I shake my head.

I'm not sure. He hasn't exactly made it clear how this is going to unfold once we get to the room.

"I'm going in first," she suggests, her voice firm. "I can... I can make it look like I'm so glad to finally be with him, and that will distract him long enough for you to get a shot off."

"I'm not letting him fucking touch you—"

"Marcus, please," she breathes, reaching for my face. "I... I know it's not easy, but we have to pretend. Just a little longer. Then all of this is going to be over."

I close my eyes for a moment, leaning my head into her hand. She's right, of course. I can't let my emotions get in the way of what needs to be done here, even if the thought of him laying a hand on her is enough to spark rage in my guts. She's mine—she has been mine since the moment we agreed to this deal together, though that's long past now. She's loyal to me. She cares for me. And our connection runs deeper than anything I've felt before.

"You're right. Let's get this over with."

We get out of the car. I keep my head down, pulling up the hood of the sweater I'm wearing to conceal my face. I don't know if anyone has followed us out here, but I'm not interested in finding out.

We make it to the front door of the block of apartments. It's hanging open, and I step forward cautiously, breathing slowly, trying to still the panic that's threatening to overtake my system. I can't let myself get spooked now, not when we're so close to finishing this—not when it feels like, in just a few minutes, all of this might be over.

A noise sounds from the stairwell. I swing the gun around to aim at it, but it's just a handful of birds, fluttering up through one of the smashed windows above them. Isabella lets out a gasp of shock, and I move in front of her, blocking her from view of anyone who might be coming down the stairs.

"First floor," she murmurs to me. "That's where he said he's going to be waiting. Please, let me go in first, let me distract him."

I know she's right. I step aside, gesturing for her to lead the way. I hate sending her out in front, but what choice do I have? If I kick in that door and show myself to him first, he'll shoot me dead in a split second. This is the only way we'll be able to reach him without blowing our cover right away.

She takes the stairs slowly, her ears pricked for any noise. I glance behind us, keeping watch on the door to make sure we're not being followed up here. I don't like making myself so vulnerable like this, especially knowing there are likely people all over the city who would be willing to take me out if they got the chance, but I have to risk it all to win.

Finally, we reach the top of the stairs, and sure enough, there's a door a few feet down the hallway that's propped open a few inches. She raises her voice, putting on an act for whoever is inside there listening.

"Come on, Marcus, it'll be fine," she tells me, raising her eyebrows at me, silently imploring me to play along. "Just the two of us, in a place like this, you'll love it."

"I don't know," I reply loudly, praying my voice doesn't give anything away. "You're into some weird shit, Isabella."

She reaches the door, and when she pushes it open, she dashes inside.

"Oh, James, thank God!" she exclaims.

She's putting on a good act, I'll give her that. Or maybe this isn't the act... maybe this is the part of it that's real. I hesitate for a moment, holding back, wondering if I should go through with this. If I doubt her still, this is my last chance to get out of here and run before I walk into a trap she's laid out for me.

I shove the thought aside and lift the gun. One shot and all of this will be over. One shot and my traitor uncle will be dead—and I'll have Isabella all to myself.

I step into the doorway and level the barrel, but the moment James sees me, his face drops, the smug expression he was wearing from her flirtation vanishing in an instant.

"He's got a fucking gun!" he snarls as he whips his own firearm up at me. He grabs Isabella around the waist, pulling her close against him.

"Get your fucking hands off of her," I declare as the two of us stand off against each other, him at one side of the room, me in the doorway, Isabella between us. Her eyes are wide and fearful, and it strikes me all of a sudden how much faith she must have put in me to let things get this far, how easy it would have been for me to use her and leave her to die here, if I felt like it.

"You really think you could ever satisfy a girl like this, Marcus?" James sneers with amusement. "She needs a real man. A man like me. Which is why she came to me to make a deal when she realized you were nothing more than a boy playing at being a man."

Isabella's breath hitches in her throat. I hold my ground.

Don't blow this for us, Isabella. We can't let him know the truth.

His hand is on her waist, pressing her against him. I can see the disgust in her eyes.

"You would really betray me like that?" I ask her, trying to muster up some level of convincing horror.

"I'm sorry, Marcus," she blurts out. "I had to. I couldn't trust you. And James is right. I need a real man to satisfy me." She plants a hand against his chest.

I can see the apology in her eyes, how much she wants this to be over.

"Just put the gun down, Marcus," James tells me, almost gently, like he's guiding an errant child.

All at once, a cold horror crosses Isabella's face. Her lips part, her eyes widen, and she stabs her finger into the air.

"Marcus, watch out, behind you!"

And just as I spin around, I hear a bullet exiting the barrel of a gun and drop to my knees, praying to God it doesn't hit her.