TENSION LICKED UP GIA’S SPINE along with something else, something she refused to give a name to. The way Smoke held her—pressed his body up against hers, bending her to his whim—made her ache. She wanted to melt into him as much as she wanted to punch him in his perfect mouth. He was baiting her as she did to him. It had been like this since the night after Griselda’s burned to the ground.

Their dynamic shifted after he kissed her and then pushed her away. It was easy to ignore him then, easy to pretend he didn’t exist or at the very least would be leaving soon. The Unhinged Brothers had a timestamp on their stay in New York, and as long as Gia kept that in mind, she was good. It would have been too easy for the distance to remain between them, but Bebo’s betrayal changed everything, forcing Smoke back into her orbit. He refused to leave her alone. He’d become her shadow, a shield she never asked for and couldn’t get rid of.

As much as Gia hated it, she secretly loved knowing he was at her back when she went on these raids. She knew deep down that with him by her side she was almost untouchable. Smoke kept her close, and she knew Smoke was crazy enough to rip everyone and everything to shreds if it meant she got to go home in one piece.

That should have been enough to draw a truce between them. Get them back on that even ground they had when Smoke introduced himself at the first Council meeting, but too much had gone on between them since then. It was clear Gia had feelings for the asshole, and whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not, Gia knew the feelings were mutual. He wanted to keep her at arm’s length, but he found every instance to pull her closer.

He actively tried to get under her skin every chance he got. At first Gia thought it was his way of being a dick and trying to keep her out of the bloodshed, but now she understood it was his way of getting her to push back.

Gia shouldn’t have taken the bait, but she couldn’t help herself—a sick part of her loved getting a rise out of him. “I don’t think I’m the one desperate for a little physical affection, Smoke.” She kept her voice low, knowing Ethan and his men were watching the exchange with avid attention.

She let her hand slip between them, knowing she was about to wave a red flag in front of a bull, and cupped Smoke through his jeans. He was already hard, but he hardened more against her touch and a low growl tore from his lips.

It was a warning. One she knew she should have heeded, but she had thrown caution to the wind. Gia spent most of her life sitting on the sidelines and tiptoeing through life, and it still got her mixed up in mob life, among other things.

“You belong by my side or at home waiting for me, Gia. What do you need to go to school for? Why did you need to work? I’m going to take care of you, so you don’t have to bother your brother.”

Gia shook herself from the memories that had been taunting her and focused on the man who had been driving her crazy since she met him. “Is that for me?” she whispered. She batted her eyelashes, loving the way his eyes scorched her. “Looks like you’re the one who needed the excuse, Smoke.” She leaned in, removing her hand from his cock. “But that’s odd since you’re the one who pushed me away.”

She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him. She hadn’t expected him to move, but she saw sadness douse the heat in his eyes. He dropped his hold on her and took a step back, running his hand behind his neck. He wouldn’t look at her—in fact, he took several steps away from her, putting Chito in between them, and it made Gia shake her head.

Why are you determined to push me away and pull me closer at the same time?

“As entertaining as this novella is to watch in real time, can we get down to business?” Ethan’s tone sounded bored, but when Gia looked back at him, she could see the smirk he was trying to hide and amusement dancing in his eyes.

There wasn’t much time for pleasantries when the Council was off licking its wounds with the aid of Ethan’s hospitality. Gia hadn’t said much of two words to the man if didn’t revolve around Council business, but every single time she and Smoke were in each other’s orbit around Ethan, Gia always found him watching them with his undivided attention. It made her wonder if he had a bet going on that he was on the verge of winning.

Ethan walked farther into the room, brushing past Gia and going straight for the man they had left strapped to the table. The guy had smartly kept his mouth shut during the exchange between her and Smoke, but now that Ethan had gotten closer, the guy’s smile was wide and bloody. He mumbled something Gia couldn’t make out, but she heard Ethan’s chuckle in response.

“¿No le sacaste nada?” Ethan questioned. Chito shook his head, handing Ethan a pair of gloves and a vial Gia hadn’t seen before.

“¿Dónde está el otro?” Ethan walked around the body as he put the gloves on his hands.

Chito inclined his head toward the door. “We haven’t gotten to him yet.”

Ethan’s smile widened, looking like something out of a horror film. It made Gia tense, and she fought to keep her feet rooted where they were even though everything in her body screamed at her to step out of the makeshift room. She couldn’t back down now and wouldn’t, especially in front of Smoke. He’d use it as an excuse to keep her holed up and out of the direct line of fire, and she couldn’t sit idly on her hands while men fought this battle.

This was as much her crusade as it was anyone else’s in this room.

“¿Dónde está Barbati?” Ethan asked the man as he looked over the damage either Smoke or Chito already did to the man’s body.

Gia hadn’t gotten around to actually taking in what had been done to their captor. He was missing fingers and a toe, from what she could see. His clothes clung to his body due to sweat, blood, and piss. His face was swollen, his smile was missing teeth, and there was blood dripping out the corner of his mouth. She wasn’t sure how the guy was still conscious enough to sneer up at Ethan. She would have commended him if not for him being on the wrong side of this.

“Nothing to say? Hmm. Not surprised.” Ethan uncorked the bottle he’d been holding and let it hover over their captor’s battered body. “Boris does demand loyalty,” he whispered. He moved the vial over the man’s dick and let a small drop fall before he unleashed the rest of the contents.

Gia watched horrified as the liquid burned through the clothes and then skin. The screams the man let out seeped deep into Gia’s core. She felt a drop of sweat slick down her back as the temperature in the room skyrocketed. Her body hurt, as if his screams were a hundred little knives piercing her skin at the same time.

She wanted to curl in on herself when Chito handed Ethan another vial. She watched Ethan taunt their captor with words she couldn’t hear over his screams. She felt nauseous as she stood by and watched the liquid—she assumed it was acid—peel the flesh from the man’s body. Gia had to fight to keep watching—to keep herself still when all she wanted to do was run from the room and empty the contents of her stomach.

“Sunshine,” Smoke whispered in her ear while his warm hand splayed across her lower back. She hadn’t seen him move, hadn’t realized that now there were men standing almost in front of her, partially blocking her view of what was happening.

“This is why I didn’t want you here.” His voice held none of his self-righteousness, and that made it harder to find her voice to tell him to fuck off, to tell him that he was wrong.

Gia knew why she needed to be here but she couldn’t think past the bloodcurdling screams or the smell that permeated the air. She wanted to leave, and she found herself leaning into Smoke’s touch—her body acting without any conscious thought, burying itself in the protective cocoon Smoke offered.

“Just because you can handle something, doesn’t mean you should, sunshine.” She felt his arms wrap around her, holding her tighter the louder the man screamed. “This isn’t a place for you, and it’s not because you’re a female or anything like that.” He pressed his lips to her pulse, and she realized then that the pounding sound she heard had been her rapid pulse and not the captor trying to escape his binds.

“You’re supposed to be safe, sunshine. This should have never touched you, no matter what it is you’ve been through.”

Gia closed her eyes involuntarily at Smoke’s words. He didn’t know what she’d been through—she had never been ready to share those pieces of herself—but the words hit harder than they should have. Safety was an illusion she could never afford the ability to pretend she had. Even before getting into bed with Bruno and Sofia, Gia had monsters in her closet creeping out when she least expected it. There was no such thing as safety in this world as a female. Ivy’s past along with Gia’s and Sofia’s current predicament were proof that the big bad wolf she’d been told about as a kid was nothing more than men desperate to exert power they never had.

The screaming finally stopped, and when Gia opened her eyes, she saw the black of Smoke’s shirt—his arms fully embraced around her in a tight hug. She blinked a few times before she pushed out of his hold and realized they were standing in the makeshift room alone. Ethan and his men had left, leaving her alone with Smoke and the man they’d finished torturing.

Gia went to turn around and Smoke was right there stopping her, which caused her anger to spike. She pushed at him. “I can handle it,” she snapped and pushed at him again when she saw the truth in his gaze.

She couldn’t.

At least not this part of things.

Shooting to kill was one thing—it was about survival. Either she made it home or they did. This had been torture in its basic form, and while she talked a good game, she hadn’t known the man on the table well enough to be his judge and jury or have a say in his execution. It was different to hear about Boris’ men they dispatched of in these warehouses, it was another thing altogether for Gia to see the physical proof of it.

I’m supposed to be stronger than this. How will I face Boris and Bruno when it’s their time?

“Gianna,” Smoke whispered her name. He reached for her again, but she stepped back. She didn’t want to be coddled. She fought to stand here with these men, and as soon as things got messy, she folded like a piece of paper. She had no doubt they would use what happened here today to keep her out of any more raids.

Gia massaged the middle of her forehead, trying to ease the tension headache that was building. She needed to go home—well, not home—all of the Council had been displaced and put in one of Ethan’s compounds as a safety measure. She needed a hot shower to wipe away the grime of the day.

“I’ll take you home,” Smoke murmured as if reading her mind.

Gia let out a sigh, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. When she looked up, she saw Smoke had gotten closer to her again and was rubbing the back of his neck. The only sign anyone ever got when he was feeling off-center or uncomfortable.

“I can manage. I’m sure you’re needed here.” She could hear it in her voice, the fight had left her and all she wanted was to put some distance between her and this warehouse.

Gia went to walk past him, no longer in the mood to share space with him. He grabbed her arm, stopping her escape. “You know the rules, sunshine. We go out in pairs or more. No one is alone.” He let his hand slide down her arm to wrap around her wrist before he cupped her hand.

Smoke flipped her palm up toward him and with his other hand ran his fingers up the center of her palm. She shivered and leaned into his touch. She watched his much larger hand handle hers with a softness that sat at odds with what he’d done in this room today. “You know, sunshine. There are days I think I know you better than anyone I’ve ever met before.” He let go of her hand and brought his knuckles up to her chin to tilt her gaze toward his.

Gia held her breath. The loud pounding of her pulse was back as she got lost in the softness of Smoke’s gaze. She hated when he looked at her like this. It brought them back to the days they had just met—before the kiss had officially changed things between them. She saw what Smoke refused to acknowledge. Or maybe he knew the truth and pushed her away for their own good, knowing once this was over, if death hadn’t come for them, Smoke and his brothers would have to leave New York—would have to leave her.

Whatever bylaws Sofia’s father put in place before his death meant Smoke couldn’t wear his cut in the city. A part of her knew Smoke pushing her away was strategic, but she hated it all the same, especially now when everything in her body screamed to fall into this man with open arms.

“And then,” Smoke continued. “There are moments when I feel like I don’t know you at all, Gia. There’s a history of pain in your eyes. I never noticed it before because you hid it well, but it’s been there ever since Ivy came back and Sofia was taken. Maybe one day you’ll trust me with the truth.” He brushed a few errant strands away from her face. “Or maybe not, but this fight doesn’t have to be your crusade. It won’t bring you the peace you think it will.”

“Nieta.” Sofia’s grandfather’s tone held pride for the first time since she had come to Colombia. She couldn’t recall how long ago that was. Time had ceased to exist when she was chained up and kept like a prisoner.

She knew she aged, but who wouldn’t? She’d been beaten within an inch of her life on multiple occasions. She’d been starved to the point of delirium and raped mercilessly like she no longer held the rights to her own body.

Sofia ached in ways she hadn’t known was possible, but the pain she felt fueled the fire burning inside of her. It kept her heart beating strong, gave birth to an iron will and mind that would never break no matter the amount of pressure she was up against.

Sofia watched her grandfather—stalked him from her perch up against the wall. She wrapped her hands around the chains that had been rubbing her wrists raw. She saw the way her grandfather’s eyes roamed over her naked body, taking note of the blood that coated her skin. There was blood everywhere—down her chest, on her face, and around her feet. She couldn’t tell what belonged to her and what belonged to her grandfather’s men.

It didn’t matter. She’d be adding more blood on her body—on her hands—soon enough.

Today was the day she was going to kill her grandfather.

“You keep getting stronger.” Her grandfather chuckled. “This is the third time you’ve fucked up my men while you’re chained up like a dog.” He whistled. “The last phase of your training is almost complete, Nieta. I’ve had men—killers even—break and plead for their lives in the very same cell you’re sitting in. They tried to negotiate, give me things I already had.” He leaned his forearms on the cell of her cage. “Todos lloraron, pero no tú, Sofia.”

Sofia kept her body still, trying not to give way to her confusion of her grandfather calling her by her first name.

“Sofia Gomes,” he murmured as he watched her. “No longer the Barbati you once were.”

Something felt off about her grandfather as she looked him over. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was at ease—relaxed even, and this man never relaxed.

Her grandfather pushed off the bars and the tell-tale sound of keys jingling perked Sofia up. He was coming into the cell, one final time, to taunt her. She would no longer be his prisoner—his victim.

“You don’t see it now, nieta, but when you leave here and take over, when you have your own kingdom, it will be these lessons that will allow you to survive.” He unlocked the door and she counted her breaths, slowing them down to keep her steady.

“It will be these moments in this cell and when you hung from the hot water pipe in my warehouse that will harden you.” He walked into the cell and she held her breath, watching as he crept closer. She tried to keep the smile off her face as he knelt down and brought his fingertips against her forearm.

He was so close she could practically taste his death. “In this world, Sofia. Women are nothing more than a wet mouth and tight cunt to help bare heirs. You’ll thank me for this one day, because if they ever get their hands on you, they’ll never be able to break you.”

A loud grunt turned moan pulled Sofia out of her past and back into her painful present. She could feel rough hands wrapped tight around her wrists and ankles, overkill given she could feel the manacles wrapped around her. Something kept her head pinned down, and she had to fight to open her eyes.

They drugged her, again. Which meant they moved her. The Council was getting closer.

Whatever victory she felt by the knowledge that Boris and whatever empire Bruno had was currently crumbling was short lived. She looked down and saw Boris’s sweaty figure on top of her—rutting away while his crew watched. It was a power play, one she knew he tried to use every time something went wrong in his organization.

Sofia scanned the cell she was in. This one was worse than the previous one. The walls had chipped paint and visible mold. She could smell piss, unsure of who or where it had come from and when she looked at who was in the cell with her, she was surprised to only see Boris, Bruno, and Bebo.

Boris usually liked to rape her with an audience to keep his men in check, and when she glanced up at Bebo, he actually looked remorseful, which set off alarm bells in her head.

Careful, Saffi. Keep your head.

Dom’s words comforted her, offered her an extra layer of protection against Boris trying to strip her bare and make her feel like nothing more than a hole for his dick. She used to fight him in the beginning. She broke his wrist and nose the first time he tried to touch her. The sound of bone crushing had been worth the beating she got after. The second time someone foolishly left something sharp within her reach, and she stabbed him. Boris got a little creative with his punishment after that.

The last time she fought back she saw in his eyes that he wanted her to struggle—to overpower her. He couldn’t keep his dick hard or cum for that matter if she laid there, accepting whatever he dished out to her. His power came from her submitting to him but only after she fought, so she stopped. She let him take what he wanted, and the only thing she felt was his impending death.

They’ll never be able to break you.

Sofia’s grandfather’s words—her time in Colombia—had been on her mind since she woke up chained to a chair facing Boris and the little bitch, Bebo. Her subconscious knew what was coming and let her fall back on the time she spent with her grandfather with an ease that should have scared her. Her mind had built up so many walls that all she had to do was slip behind them and dissociate to what was in front of her. It had been years since she was in her grandfather’s care, but time didn’t diminish the barriers she used to protect herself.

You’ll thank me for this one day.

Boris cursed as he abruptly jumped off of her. She glanced at him, seeing the angry pinch of his eyebrows while his cock was still hard. He put his fist through the nearest wall, and Sofia had to fight her smile.

Such a weak man throwing his tantrum when he can’t get what he wants.

“Put that bitch on her fucking feet,” Boris spat. Sofia rolled her eyes. Boris was becoming a wee bit predictable. He was going to whip her until her skin was cut up and she bleed for his inability to cum.

“Boris,” Bebo spoke up, and Sofia’s body tensed at the sound. No one spoke up before, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

Steady, Saffi.

“I said get that fucking bitch on her feet!” Boris snapped, and only Bruno moved. He tried to tug her to her feet, but Bebo kept her down on her back. They got into a silent game of tug of war that had Sofia cursing.

“Listen, whatever’s happening here, leave me out of it,” she grumbled, wondering what this new tactic was. The men in Boris’ operation never questioned his command—at least not in front of her. When Boris snapped his fingers, they all jumped to comply.

“Outside, now!” Boris growled, and she watched as Bruno and Bebo dropped their hold on her and shuffled out of her cage.

Sofia shifted, as much as the chains let her, she moved so her back was now up against the cold concrete wall. She was sore. She closed her eyes, trying to hear what was being said outside her cage, but she heard nothing. Something was up though, Sofia could feel it. They not only moved her again, but Bebo’s recent and brief act of defiance made her stomach tighten. It made her wonder if him coming to her cell earlier with a first aid kit had been meant to soften her.

“They’ll try everything, nieta. They’ll beat you, rape you, torture you physically to see how much you can handle, and when that doesn’t work, they’ll try and get inside your mind. You’re strong—physically stronger than I gave you credit for—but let’s see how strong that mind is, shall we?”

The sound of her cage door opening pulled Sofia’s eyes to Bebo. He stood in the entryway with a sheepish look on his face. He had a water bottle and first aid kit in hand—a peace offering no doubt. He hesitated, seeming unsure of himself, before he walked farther in and knelt down in front of her. It was just like earlier, but it wasn’t. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, and when he did, she saw a sadness she hadn’t expected to ever see on his face.

“Odio que nos hace mirar. It’s bad enough that he does it to you. It’s even worse that he makes us watch.” He offered her the water bottle, but she refused it. She would need to drink water soon, but she could afford to wait till he was well out of the room.

When she didn’t take the water bottle he shrugged and put it down at her feet before he opened the first aid kit. He grabbed a pack of baby wipes and left them next to the water bottle before he attended to the wounds on her wrists from the chains.

“No deberías estar aquí, Sofía.” Bebo sounded so sincere—remorseful even—it made her snort in response.

Ah, Bebo has come to play good cop.

Sofia rolled her eyes, “I’d clap but something tells me you’re not done with your performance. La traicién place, mas no el que la hace.” She jerked her hands out of his hold, a little let down that they would attempt this tactic. She hadn’t been here long enough for them to try and worm their way into her mind. It almost made her laugh that even after all the rumors and what she’d already accomplished, Boris still underestimated her. Even Bebo still underestimated her.

“I’m trying to be nice, Sofia. You can use a little of that while you’re down here.” Bebo let out a sigh, like he was trying his best.

“You know, Dom told me about the mustang you had back on the island. How you worked with it to temper its wild spirit.” Bebo couldn’t hide the surprise on his face that she knew any of his more intimate and mundane details. While it irked her that she missed a vital piece of information on Bebo, she did know enough about him and what this was.

“I’m going to throw you a bone, Bebo. The only one you’ll ever get from me. You should believe the rumors about me from Colombia. I am not what you think and can’t easily be manipulated. You’re a child playing a man’s game. You’re going to have to try a little bit harder to get into my head.” She leaned forward, grabbing the first aid kit that he abandoned by his feet.

Sofia swung, clocking him upside the head only once before he grabbed her wrist and bent it at an odd angle. He pushed down, putting pressure on her wrist, and she smiled up at him, blocking out the pain like she’d been taught to do. “Like I said, you’re going to have to try harder to fuck with me. What goes on inside my head isn’t meant for the weak.”