Page 146 of Fallen Rook

“Yeah, well, I’m demanding that you give me your word you’ll leave her alone. If not, I’m taking the plea deal.”

“You would never.”

“Wouldn’t I?” I thrust my chin forward. “Bet you didn’t imagine an hour ago that I’d break off an engagement, come out of the closet, or fuck a fed.”

This seemed to convince Luca I was crazy enough to consider anything, because he tossed up a dismissive hand. “Fine. Fuck. No Katya.”

“Thank you.”

“Killjoy,” Tristan muttered.

“We need someone from the inside to tell us what we’re dealing with from the feds.” Achilles turned to Tristan.

Tristan drummed his long fingers on the table. Up until now, he’d been mostly watching our collective meltdown with detached amusement. “I’ll see what I can do, but Rothwell keeps his cards close to his chest. Can’t you suck your way into getting us the information we need?” He tilted a sardonic eyebrow at me.

Fucker.

“No. We’re done.”

“Crying shame,” he said flatly.

I was going to kill him one day.

Achilles and Luca were running around like headless chickens, speaking on their phones, paying me no attention. Tiernan was texting Alex, probably trying to convince him to spare his wife’s brothers. And Tierney and Lila scooted toward me, each of them holding my hand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so proud to call you a friend.” Tierney kissed my cheek. “You did it.”

But maybe coming out was the easy part, after all.

Because living authentically meant jack shit if I was going to do it in prison.

Chapter Forty-Two

Enzo

The following days were a goddamn mess.

Sleep was a distant memory, as we all threw ourselves into damage control.

The next day, I announced my canceled engagement to Katya and that I was gay in front of thirty of our captains and high-ranking soldiers. They responded by staring at me blankly, then pretending I’d never said anything. Luca and Achilles were obviously uncomfortable with the situation. They hadn’t offered me any words beyond what was said at Tiernan and Lila’s dining table regarding my sexuality, and brushed over the subject quickly, moving on to the issue with the feds.

By the afternoon, my being gay was the talk of the Italian Mafia all across the world. New York, Chicago, Naples, Sicily. Everyone knew, and everyone had something to say. The Bratva was having a field day. I heard rumors started circulating on Discord and WhatsApp groups, about how Katya caught me red-handed in a fuck-fest with three men. Another about how I couldn’t get it up and that was why she left me. I had to turn off my comments on Instagram because assholes kept opening new anonymous profiles and targeting me.

And we were losing soldiers rapidly, not to mention prestige.

The Camorra had never been weaker, and a lot of it was because of me.

I also had to get rid of a shit ton of drugs outside of state lines at a ridiculously low price to avoid the feds.

Amid all this, I also had to get over Tom. And I wasn’t sure I ever could, even if I wanted to.

He’d stayed true to his word that he’d honor whatever I asked in exchange for the get-out-of-jail-free card. He hadn’t texted, called, or waited outside my apartment. That pissed me off, too. I knew I’d said I didn’t want him to contact me, but he was not supposed to have that kind of self-control where I was concerned.

Although of course I would never be with him. Ever.

Fucking asshole.

Fucking fucker who fucked everything the fuck up.