17. Lexi

17

LEXI

R amsey doesn't even look at me as he crowds around the table with the others, shot glasses raised in a toast to Anthony Greco. It's impressive the way he can pretend, even in the midst of such grief, that he's not backstabbing them all. I drink along with them, joining in their somber celebration of life for a man who, as far as I know, didn't do shit worth celebrating. Still, he was Ramsey's father. And I know what it's like not to have one of those. So, I swallow the acid on my tongue and watch them help him grieve.

A few minutes—and shots—later, Mia sits down in the empty chair next to mine. We're set back from the guys, which is a good thing because Razor's re-enacting Ramsey punching the wall while Dutch and Crow attempt to punch each other instead.

Maybe this is part of grieving too?

"So, how are you really doing?" Mia asks me.

Instead of lecturing like a mother hen, she's ignoring the guys' roughhousing, which is evidence that she's not herself today.

"I'm better," I say. "I just needed to get out of there."

She nods. "I get that."

"How did you not lose it?" I ask.

Her eyes are sad. "I lost it a long time ago, honey."

Her words make me think about what Grey said to me in the car earlier. That the ones who didn't scream are the ones who should be sorry. But all I can think is that she has the one thing I don't to keep her safe: a wolf.

The other night out on the highway, I'd been so sure Grey had finally found a way to trigger my wolf. But it didn't work. And now, I can't stop thinking about Ramsey's claims that a single bite would do the trick.

Is Grey keeping that from me for some reason?

Does he really not want me to turn?

The longer I go without answers, the more convinced I am that the only person I can rely on in this city is myself. And in order to do that, I have to find a way to become a wolf.

"Okay, no more shots," Grey announces. "We need clear heads for what we're going to discuss."

"We better be discussing a complete assault and annihilation of Franco Giovanni and anyone he's ever loved," Ramsey snarls.

Everyone falls silent and glances at me.

"What?" I say with a shrug. "Franco never loved me. I agree with Ramsey."

Dutch hoots and bangs his empty shot glass on the table.

Crow smirks.

"She's got a point," Razor says.

"We're not ready to take him on directly yet," Grey says. "We need to bring more people to our side first."

Ramsey turns to glare at him. "What the fuck? You want to play politics when he just shot my old man in front of the entire pack?"

"What he did to your dad is political," Mia says gently.

"I don't give a fuck." Ramsey shoves out of his chair and runs his hand through his wet hair. "I want his blood spilled. We can do this. We have to do this." Around the grief, desperation leaks in.

"We all want that—" Dutch begins.

"My dad's gone, which makes me next in line for general," Ramsey interrupts. "I'll have my seat at the table. We can use it to take Franco and Vincenzo down from the inside."

Grey's tone is cautious. "Even if my father names you, he won't talk pack business in front of you. You have to earn the inner circle, Ram. Remember how pissed he was about our attack on Franco's restaurant?"

Ramsey straightens, clearly only more determined. "I'm a fucking Greco," he says. "I have a right to my seat, and I'm going to take it. Vincenzo won't be able to shut me out, and then we'll have access to all the resources we need to take down both alphas once and for all."

"I think we need to be smart," Dutch says cautiously. "Take this slow."

"Fuck slow," Ramsey snaps. "We've been going slow and look where it got us. It's time for action."

"Ram, I think you need to take a breath," Razor says.

"Fuck this," Ramsey growls. "I refuse to listen to you guys talk and talk about doing nothing fucking useful. Call me when you're ready to fight."

He stalks off, shoving through the door and disappearing into the apartment.

"I'll go after him," Mia says, starting to rise.

"No." Grey stops her. "Let him go. Give him some time to cool off."

Mia sits down again.

Through the windows, I see Ramsey getting into the elevator.

When the doors close, Grey looks back at us. "We can't just think about how today affects us," Grey says. "My father and the generals will want to respond to what Franco did."

"Good, let them tear each other apart. They'll do the work for us," Mia mutters.

Grey shakes his head, violence flashing in his eyes. "We can't let that happen. The first weapon my father will reach for is Lexi."

"So, we what? Convince him to forgive and forget?" Razor asks, brows raised.

"No." Grey picks up the case he brought from where he'd stashed it on the ground earlier. He sets it on the table and opens it. "Ramsey's right about fighting, which is why I'm going to challenge my father for alpha."

They all look at him, speechless.

Dutch recovers first. "You sure about this?"

"Yes." Grey takes something from inside the case and holds it up.

A knife.

Not just any knife. It's fancy, with jewels embedded in the handle and symbols carved into the steel. It looks old—and deadly.

"Is that what I think it is?" Mia whispers, leaning forward.

Grey nods. "A hex blade. Charmed with the power to bind souls."

"Where the hell did you find it?" Razor asks.

"The Black Moon Pack alpha owed me a favor," Grey says quietly.

"That must've been some favor." Dutch snorts.

"Why didn't you tell us you had this?" Crow asks.

"You know what will happen if we're caught with this," Grey says. "I didn't want to put you at risk unless it was necessary." His mouth tightens. "And I think it is."

"You want us to pledge to you." Mia looks up at him with pure loyalty in her gaze, and I suddenly realize it's a damn good thing Ramsey's not here.

Then I realize it could just as easily out me as a traitor. My heart races. I resist the urge to get up and move away.

Grey glances at me then back at Mia. "It's time. It's the only thing that will make me strong enough."

"If we do this, there's no going back," Dutch warns. "The other alphas will know what you are."

"It's a risk we'll have to take," Grey says.

"You're really going to challenge your dad?" Crow asks.

Grey's expression is pained. "There's no other way."

It dawns on me then—the reality of what he's suggesting. My own fear was so consuming, I'd missed it at first.

He's going to fight and kill his own father.

If Vincenzo doesn't kill him first.

Now, the fear is an iron grip on my heart.

"What about Franco?" Razor asks.

"My father's the biggest threat right now," Grey says. "Especially with the wedding coming up soon. Once I defeat him, I'll have enough power to take on Franco. Besides, we don't have the numbers to take on Franco's pack. And you know they won't just accept me outright. Not without a fight."

"Wait, you're going to fight your dad and Franco?" I ask, panic rising inside me.

"You saw what Franco did today," Grey says. "My father will retaliate. There will be war. And innocent people will pay the price. I'm not letting that happen. I'm not letting you get put in the middle either."

"But if you challenge him, even if you win, Franco won't just sit by and do nothing," I say. "There'll be war either way."

"You're right," he says. "But we can't avoid it any longer."

"It was always going to come to a fight," Mia tells me gently.

"I don't want you to worry," Grey adds. "I'm going to make sure you're safe."

Frustration bubbles up in me. They're treating me like I'm helpless.

I'm so sick of it.

If Grey isn't going to help me access my wolf, I have to find a way to do it myself. And there's only one person who might have the information I need.

"Okay, wait," I say, and all eyes turn to me. "Before you do this pledge and send up some kind of bat signal, I think we should make Vincenzo believe we're on his side. That way, he'll never see your challenge coming." Grey looks ready to argue so I press on, "You told me what he did last time—sidestepping his own fight at the last minute by nominating a champion. He could easily do that again."

Grey looks at me warily. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well," I say, my thoughts racing to form a plan they'll get behind. One that will give me a chance to get what I need in time. "If he were going to make someone else fight in his place, it would probably be one of his generals, right?"

Dutch shrugs. "My dad would do it in a heartbeat." He glances at Grey apologetically. "No offense."

Grey shakes his head. "None taken."

"Yeah, my old man would too," Razor pipes up reluctantly.

Crow grunts an agreement. He looks at Grey. "She's not wrong. Besides, even if you did fight a champion in his place and win the title, Vincenzo would still be alive. And that makes him a threat."

"Right, so we need to make sure the generals can't step in," I say, warming to my idea. With any luck, they'll all be too distracted to notice I have my own agenda.

Mia looks from me to Grey. "How do we do that?"

I hesitate, waiting to see what Grey will say. My idea might be perfect—or it might piss him off.

"I know a way," he says, and I exhale, relieved at not having to say it.

I listen as he tells the others about the chemical Franco had him use five years ago. Dutch and Mia don't look shocked, but Razor and Crow are clearly hearing this part of the story for the first time.

"Dude, that's so fucked up. Why didn't you tell me?" Razor asks.

"We could've helped you," Crow says quietly, the hurt in his voice unmistakable.

Grey's jaw is stubbornly set. "You saw what my father was willing to do to me—to all of us—for defying him. If he thought you were involved in what I did, you all would've been in danger."

"You don't look surprised," Razor says to Dutch. "You knew."

"Not at the time. I mean, I suspected Grey was up to something, but I didn't have proof. He told me after. When Vincenzo told him to get the hell out of the city. I made sure Vincenzo couldn't track Grey down—just in case he changed his mind about letting him live."

"Fuck," Razor snarls. "That guy deserves everything that's coming to him."

"And you?" Crow asks Mia. "You knew?"

"Not until recently," she says.

Crow looks at Grey. "You told her but not us?"

"No," Mia says. "My dad told me."

Crow's eyes widen. "Why the hell would he do that?"

"I don't know. He's been more forthcoming lately. I figured it was part of his training or passing the torch or whatever." She looks at Grey. "Maybe it's more than that."

"Charlie doesn't approve of everything my father's doing," Grey says. He glances at me. "Especially with Lexi."

That startles me.

I'm not sure how far his disapproval extends, but I tuck it away for later. For now, I stay focused on making this work for me—before it's too late and I'm caught in a war between deadly wolves with no way to protect myself.

"So, you want to give the generals that same drug?" I ask.

Grey shakes his head. "Not the same one, no. My father would suspect me immediately. We need to do something to weaken them, though."

"We could throw a party," I suggest.

"What kind of party?" Mia asks.

I shrug. "Something to do with the wedding maybe? We get all the generals together and push drinks on them. Get them drunk enough that they won't notice if you slip them something else. Leave Vincenzo out of it. Then, at the end of the night, issue your challenge. He'll be the only one fit to fight."

The others are quiet for a moment.

Razor's the first to nod. "It's a good idea. Those assholes would never see it coming."

"I don't know if he'd buy that we want them to celebrate our wedding," Grey says.

Another beat of silence.

"We can call it a celebration of life for Anthony," Crow offers.

Mia nods. "They couldn't say no to that."

"We need a venue," Dutch says. "Somewhere they're comfortable enough to let their guard down."

"And with minimal security," Mia adds.

"What about the suite at the tower?" Razor suggests.

Dutch snaps his fingers. "That could work. I can tap into the security feed and set Crow up with a livestream so he can watch our backs."

"And it's private enough that no one else will bother us," Mia says.

"It's one of the few places they think they're safe," Razor agrees.

"What's the tower?" I ask.

"It's the corporate office for the Diavolo pack-owned businesses. It's the tallest building in the city, so we call it the tower," Mia explains. "All our dads have offices there. But one floor up, there's this huge suite meant for entertaining. Couches, a bar, screens, the whole deal. They like to party up there after hours, so it's already stocked with what we'd need."

"Sounds perfect," I say. "And while you guys are feeding the generals their drinks, I can distract Vincenzo."

"Absolutely not," Grey growls. "You'll be at the penthouse where it's safe."

"I'm not staying behind," I say, bracing myself for an argument.

"Yes, you are." The look on his face is unyielding, but I'm not taking no for an answer on this one. "My father is dangerous?—"

"He doesn't see me as a threat," I cut in. "He'd have to take me seriously to consider me dangerous. To him, I'm a worthless, stupid woman. Something to be used and manipulated. He'll never suspect I'm up to anything."

Grey shakes his head, unconvinced.

I look away from him to the others, searching for an ally.

Mia meets my gaze, nodding. She looks back at Grey. "She's right," Mia tells him. "Vincenzo will spend the entire time reminding her who's really in charge. A bunch of alpha bullshit. It's the perfect distraction."

"I agree," Razor pipes up, earning him a heated glare from Grey.

"No one asked you," Grey grumbles.

"It would split our focus if we leave her at the penthouse," Crow says, the voice of reason. "You'll be distracted all night knowing she's alone. It'll make you sloppy."

"I'm never sloppy," Grey snarls.

Mia rolls her eyes. "We're just going to give you two a couple of minutes to talk this out." She pushes to her feet, nodding at the others to do the same.

"Right." Dutch stands, tapping Razor's shoulder.

Razor and Crow push back from their chairs.

They all head back inside the apartment, closing the door behind them. When we're alone, I try to wait out the silence, but Grey's clearly not going to start the conversation.

"I can do this," I say.

"Absolutely fucking not." Grey's tone is final, but I refuse to give up.

"What happened to being in this equally?" I cross my arms. "You said?—"

"I don't care what I said. You don't know how dangerous this world is for someone—" He doesn't finish it, but the damage is done.

My hands ball into fists. "Someone like me."

"Lexi." He sighs but makes no move to correct himself.

I laugh without a single shred of humor. "So, it's okay for you to risk your life, or for the others to risk theirs, but not for me, the weak little human? I thought you said you weren't like your father."

He closes the distance between us, his rage pushing to the surface. "I am nothing like him," he nearly yells.

The storm in his eyes should probably intimidate me. Instead, it makes me want to wrap my arms around him and comfort him. Because it's easy to see what has him falling apart: fear.

Before I can do that, his phone rings.

He yanks it out and answers angrily without even looking at the screen. "What?"

Instantly, his expression changes.

"No, I— What? You texted me this morning," he says, his tone a mixture of confusion and impatience. "You told me to bring her."

He listens to whoever's on the other end then says, "I can screenshot the fucking text if you want, but you?—"

He goes silent as he paces along the balcony.

Finally, he says, "I'm not fucking lying."

His teeth are gritted, his expression pinched tight with fury.

"Fine. I'll be there," he says and ends the call.

"Who was that?" I ask.

"My father."

"What—"

He stares down at his phone, mouth set in a hard line. "He's pissed you came to the meeting today. Said we need to be at the funeral but no more public appearances until then."

"What do you mean? I thought he texted you?—"

He holds his phone up, showing me the text thread. "The punctuation is missing. I should've fucking known it was a hack. Dammit." He stalks past me toward the door.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"I need to put Dutch on this," he says. "To trace this text and see if I'm right about who really sent it."

"Who do you think it was?" I ask.

"Dom."

The moment he says it, I realize he's probably right. "Do you think Franco told him to?"

"No. I think he's playing a fucking game all his own." He shakes his head. "Probably getting back at me for that package."

My fear becomes wariness. "What package?"

He sighs. "When I heard he put his hands on you the other night…" Fury twists his features. "I should've done much worse."

"Grey. What package?"

"I sent him a picture of Tio with a pig's heart on top."

I stare at him, stunned. "You killed a pig?"

"No. I had Dutch go to the slaughterhouse and buy one."

I don't know whether to be relieved or disturbed. "Grey."

"Let me talk to Dutch. I'll be right back."

"Wait. Just hear me out. Your dad's pissed you brought me to the meeting because he doesn't want to jeopardize what he sees as his golden ticket, right?" He doesn't answer, but I can see I'm right. "Throw the party," I say. "Invite a bunch of dancers. Booze, drugs, whatever. While they're all distracted, you can slip the generals something. They'll never see it coming. Then, when they're out, you can use the blade and become a pack. By the time you challenge your father, there'll be nothing he can do to get out of it." I take a breath, steadying myself until the words feel true. "This will work. And then it'll all be over."

"Lexi." He exhales, his shoulders sagging. But he doesn't back off. He holds my gaze, pleading with his eyes, and his hand comes up to cup my cheek. It's warm and gentle against my skin. The contact strengthens the buzz of connection I've felt since the other night out on the highway.

I lean into it—into him—and melt when his mouth brushes mine.

"I can't lose you," he whispers.

And even though a shudder of unease tells me it's a lie, I say, "You won't."