Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

MINA

"I had no idea Reuben owned a private jet." I trailed my fingers along the back of a seat before lowering myself onto the soft leather.

Gianni flopped sideways onto the seat facing me, feet dangling into the aisle.

He grinned. "When he realised Zeke and his band were still flying commercial, he bought this bad boy." He patted the leather beside his thigh. "No one said he couldn't be petty once in a while."

I was smiling as I fastened my seatbelt. "So he bought this to get one up on his brother? Does he ever let him use it?"

Gianni sat around and clicked in his own seatbelt. "There's only one way he'd let Zeke fly in this. If he quits the band and comes back to the family."

"Where would he fit in?" I adjusted the armrest and propped my elbow. "I mean, he wouldn't take the place of you or Damon."

"Fuck no," Gianni agreed. "No one could replace us. Zeke is a good guy, but he's not going to go around crashing SUVs, or killing on Reuben's orders."

"Then why does Reuben want him to come back so badly?" I asked.

"Because he's family." Gianni shrugged. "He's also good-looking and charismatic. Everything I'm not. He could talk people into doing things without needing to threaten them. By the time they realised what was going on, he'd be long gone."

"I can see the value of that," I said. "What about Asher? Does Reuben want him to return to the fold?"

"He'd be welcome, if he brought Zeke back with him. As far as I can tell, they're a package deal. You can't get one without the other."

"That sounds like them," I said. It didn't seem like that changed at all since I was away.

"Also," Gianni continued, "if you wanted Reuben to welcome Asher, he'd do it. Rose or Dane too."

I wrinkled my nose. "Dane would love that. He'd do everything he could to make himself Reuben's right-hand. Or better yet, his heir."

Gianni smirked. "That would be an interesting picture. Dane DiMarco, the new head of the Brantley family. Over the twins' dead bodies. Not to mention Caleb, Joshua and Lucas. He better make sure they're good and dead first, or they'd be coming for him."

"I think it's better not to encourage him then," I said. That would result in a lot of bloodshed. When things escalated, innocent people tended to come under fire.

"If Dane starts to get too big for his boots, Reuben can always have the Sparrow deal with him."

Gianni had glanced out the window as he spoke and missed seeing me twitch in response. Even an assassin had to draw the line somewhere. I drew it at killing my own family, but to avoid all that bloodshed, I may have to consider it.

"I'm sure that won't be necessary," I said, my voice tighter than I intended.

Gianni's gaze swung back to me. "Sorry, I shouldn't make light of killing members of your family. You must miss them."

"I do," I agreed. Seeing my cousin Ric a couple of weeks ago felt surreal. At some point I'd be ready to see my siblings, but right now I had to focus on the job at hand.

"It's better they keep thinking I'm happily living a suburban life for now." The truth was going to shock the hell out of them.

Unless Asher changed a lot since I saw him last, it would rip his heart out. Rose too.

"You mentioned your family," I said carefully. "If you don't want to talk about them…"

He shrugged and steepled his fingers before pressing them to his lips. "My family is Italian. You probably figured it out from the look of this mug." He pointed a finger at his face. "They're up to their eyeballs in mafia shit. They'd prefer I worked with them than Reuben."

"Why don't you?" I asked.

He exhaled, long and slow. "I've never gotten along with them. They…" He searched for the words. "They don't give a shit who they step on to get what they want. They'll happily step on each other. If you can't even trust your family, then who the fuck can you trust?"

"The family you choose," I said.

He grinned behind his fingers. "Exactly. So I choose Reuben, Damon and you. And not them. Lucky for me, they don't live in Australia, for the most part. Also, Reuben was happy to sponsor me to join the Brotherhood."

I grimaced. "I shouldn't be surprised they're still around."

"The Brotherhood of Kings has been around for a few hundred years; they aren't going anywhere anytime soon," Gianni agreed.

"The Brotherhood, owning governments since the dawn of time," I said sarcastically. Although, that was the truth of it. "Are they letting women join yet?"

"Only as fillies." Gianni's smile was teasing, knowing he'd get a rise out of me. No woman was allowed to join the Brotherhood, but they could become a filly, offering sexual favours in the hope of catching the eye of a powerful man. My parents met that way. Reuben's parents too, probably.

I'd never been interested in hunting for a powerful husband, especially after what I heard about the Brotherhood. They tended to hand women around like they were a bag of chocolate pieces, to be shared, used, and degraded.

To me, that seemed like a high price to pay for money and power. As far as I knew, my brother Asher wasn't a member. I wasn't sure about Dane, but if he could join, he would have.

"Misogyny is alive and well I see," I remarked.

"Running the world has to come at a price." He shrugged. "Would it be better to leave it to politicians?"

I snorted. "No, it would be better to leave it to women."

Gianni grinned. "When you become Queen of the world, can I wash your feet?"

I pretended to consider the matter. "I'll think about it. It depends who does it best: you, Damon or Reuben. Or maybe the twins."

Gianni chuckled. "Don't make me kill the twins to keep them from muscling in on my territory."

"The day I'd be interested in either of them…" I shook my head. "They're too young for me anyway."

"They're closer in age to you than you are to me," Gianni pointed out. "Or Reuben, or Damon."

"Just the way I like it," I said lightly. I glanced out the window as we taxied down the runway. "I've always preferred men who have their shit together."

"I've always had a thing for women who know how to use a knife," Gianni said. "Who don't let the world hold them back. Who stand on their own two feet. The opposite of the kind of women who fraternise with the Brotherhood. Although, every now and again, there'll be a firecracker. I'm mostly there for the parties and world domination."

"World domination does seem to be a good excuse to hang out and get drunk," I said.

"It's the best excuse," he said. "Let other people have good looks and fame, I prefer power and money. Or to be close to it."

"Who says you don't have good looks?" I asked. He'd said several times now that he was the brains or the brawn, while other men were the attractive ones.

"When I was born, my mother cried," he said. He gave me a lopsided grin.

"I don't believe that for a minute," I said. "I think you're cute." He wasn't as classically handsome as Reuben or Damon, but he had his own charm.

"That's the first time anyone has called me cute," he said. He placed his hands in his lap and cocked his head in contemplation. "I think I like it."

"I'm glad you do," I said. "But I'm sure you've been called that before."

"I tend to think that's a word that applies better to you, but we can share." He reached over to take my hand, his smile replaced by earnestness. "Can I confess something?"

My heart skipped a beat at his touch and the expression on his face. Was there a chance he knew what I was and was about to tell me? If it wasn't that, then when was it?

I forced myself to say, "Of course you can." I wasn't oblivious to the fact we were now in the air. He couldn't shoot me, but I couldn't run. Was I strong enough to defend myself against him if I needed to? I'd have to be, if it came down to that. What then? The pilot might have orders to take me to fuck knows where.

He took a deep breath and looked from side to side before locking his gaze back on mine.

"I hate flying," he admitted. "I know, big badass guy like me shouldn't be scared of anything. But we're a long fucking way up and it's a long fucking way down. I hate heights."

I pushed out a breath of relief and reminded myself to be sympathetic. I didn't need him to wonder why I was on the verge of freaking out. Although, the enclosed space around us was unnerving. I could always say it reminded me of the cage.

"There's nothing wrong with being scared of heights or flying," I said. "Everyone is scared of something. Heights, snakes, marshmallows."

He looked surprised, then grinned. "Marshmallows?"

"Yeah." I grimaced. "They're all squishy and sticky." I mimed pressing one of them between my thumb and the rest of my fingers. Imagined the way they felt, soft and sugary. Like flesh, but sweet. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to put one of them in their mouth.

"I like sticky." He chuckled.

Of course he did. Our conversations came down to sex more often than not. The memory of slipping my finger between his lips and letting him suck his own cum from my skin made my skin tingle and my clit throb.

I rolled my eyes. "Not that kind of sticky. I just don't like them, okay?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Noted. If I make you a hot chocolate, I won't put them in."

"And I won't insist you fly anywhere unless Reuben tells you to," I said. "Although, this is a lot more comfortable than flying commercial."

"It really is." He sank back against the seat and crossed his arms. "I should take a selfie and send it to Zeke. Remind him of what he's missing."

"I bet the twins would do that," I said. I pictured them with identical smug grins, taking several photos and bombing their brother with them. Laughing the whole time.

"They definitely would," he agreed. "Anything to get a rise out of anyone. There's nothing they wouldn't do for shits and giggles."

"They haven't changed either," I said. "Sometimes I think five years changed everything and sometimes I think it changed nothing."

"It changed you," he said softly.

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Yes, it did. What he did to me would change anyone."

What would I be like if I hadn't gone through that? Would I be as carefree as Hunter and Parker? Or would I have been fully consumed by the persona of the cold-blooded assassin? Unfeeling and uncaring.

Either way, sweet, innocent little Mina DiMarco was dead. The woman who sat in her place was a lot more ruthless and driven. I wouldn't kill my family, if I could help it, but I'd destroy anyone who got in my way. Anyone who got between me and killing Kurt.

Let their blood coat my hands; I wouldn't feel a thing. Not until I drove that blade through his heart and watched the life drain away from him.