Page 18 of From Rome, With Hate

“You sound like you are otherwise preoccupied,” Rhys points out. “My cue to end this call.”

“Wait, Rhys…” I sigh, giving up on my search for now.

“Listen, Rome. I can’t offer you protection any longer. Our demons are bound to catch up to us one day. One piece of advice I can leave you with is to keep a low profile, lay low. The man who attacked you likely wasn’t working alone. There’ll be another. I fully intend on searching for them myself, but you’re on your own with this one. You can’t expect to leave this world without paying a price. Speaking for myself, I would never let one of my men rest if they pulled the same shit you did. Understood?”

I freeze, understanding completely. I should have known this instead of living the past ten years with my head buried in the sand, pretending this never could have happened. That my father would never have a hand in sending someone after me, enacting his revenge on his own son.

The line dies, and I lower my shaking hand. My phone slips from my palm, landing on the top of my desk with a heavy thud.

“Shit.” I fist the ends of my hair. “Fuck.”

With my panic settling in, I search for the business card again. There are no windows in my office as it’s set at the far end of the service hallway to Club Verona, but I know the night is only just beginning. Heavy, pulsating beats echo down the walls and through the floor, indicating the transition of casual bar to vibrant nightclub. The VIP lounge is reserved for the night. A Wall Street banker booked it for his nephew’s bachelor party. Before Rhys’s phone call, I was convinced it was the right thing to do to conduct business as usual. But now I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

My father is dead, and I agree with Rhys: the man who tried to kill me likely isn’t the only one.

I’m still sifting through loose papers in my desk when my phone rings.

Unknown Caller again.

“I thought you said we were finished,” I answer on a heavy exhale.

“Far from it,” a man who clearly isn’t Rhys drawls.

The blood drains from my face. “Who is this?”

He clicks his tongue against his teeth in disapproval. “Rome fucking Montgomery.” He laughs a sinister laugh, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand. “How’s the neck?”

I massage my lips, trying to contain the fury brewing inside me. How the fuck does this guy know what injuries I sustained? He must be watching me, conducting surveillance.

I close my eyes and remember the man my father tried to raise me to be—the one I never became.

“I would say to ask your friend,” I start, lacing my voice with venom, “but I think he’ll have a bit of trouble answering, considering there’s a large bullet hole in the side of his head.”

“You fucking asshole,” he seethes.

Good, I’ve gotten under his skin.

“Where is he?” he asks furiously.

“Honestly? I’m not sure.”

“You’re dead, Rome.”

It isn’t the first time I’ve been threatened. “Listen, why don’t we stop playing games, and you tell me what the fuck it is you want from me?”

“Retribution.”

“Figures,” I chuckle. “I’m going to take a guess and say my father sent your little friend to send me a message.”

“The man you killed was more than a friend. Took us a while to figure out it was you who was responsible for putting your father and the other ten men convicted in prison. Unconscionable, really, a son betraying his family.”

This man and the one who attacked me must be associates of my father’s, just like Rhys suggested.

I clench my hand into a tight fist, forcing the memories to stay back. I banished them long ago.

“Every one of those fuckers deserves to rot in Hell, including my father.” I pause. “Oh, wait. He already is in Hell, since he died last night. So, why don’t we just leave all of this behind with his death?”

“Hilarious that you think we’ll end this because of Dominico’sunfortunatepassing. Family used to mean something. But I guess that all went to shit the moment you betrayed the Montgomery name by turning Dominico over to the feds.”