Sunrise Malice: An Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance

Dusan’s men assault the front door, but we fight them off.

Unfortunately, there aren’t enough soldiers on their feet to cover the rear as well. As soon as the Serbians decide to go around the rear, we’re spread too thin. The shooting and screams echo down the hallways, and I force Jean to fall back.

“What happened in there?” he asks as we get our remaining soldiers to the second floor. It’s not ideal, but we’ll be able to hold the high ground better.

“Ronan got hit. Niall’s helping him.”

“Once Dusan’s inside, they’re fucked.”

“There’s a door to the side hall. If Niall’s smart, he’ll get them out and into the basement. They can hole up down there.”

“That’s a lot of guesses. Fuck, if Ronan’s dead⁠—”

“We’ll deal with that if it happens.”

Jean’s right to worry though. If Ronan gets killed in my mansion during a fight my own family started, that is going to send shockwaves through this city. Forget about a drug connection—there’s no way the Biancos will be able to stay out of it anymore.

They’ll crush us just to stop the violence from spreading.

This is bad. This is very bad. I never imagined Pascal would stoop so low, but it’s the only logical explanation. He must’ve tipped Dusan off as he escaped, and the wily fucking Serb was smart enough to come take advantage of my weakened position.

Now, Pascal gets to run away, while I’m trapped in this fucking building, my men spread thin and too bloodied to mount a reasonable defense.

I leave Jean in charge of the front staircase and go to check the back. There’s sporadic shooting, but the Serbians haven’t tried to push upstairs in earnest yet. That’ll happen soon—they’re just clearing the bottom floor first. My soldiers are in good positions though, and I have to hope we can hold out.

But for what? I rack my brain trying to come up with allies that might be able to help. Ronan’s downstairs, shot and maybe dead. The Biancos aren’t an option. The former head of the Polish mafia is dead, and his family isn’t getting involved in any wars as they figure out their own internal issues. I’d rather castrate myself than call Marco, our former friend, and the bastard that betrayed us in the end. The motorcycle clubs are in disarray after one of their biggest gangs was slaughtered last year.

It’s a fucking mess. And nobody’s coming.

I retreat to check on Brianne and Kim. They’re safe with Helga, all of them looking grim. For a moment, I want to beg them to climb out the window. I could lead them to Grandpère’s ladder and cover them as they tried to escape, or even sacrifice myself in some grand, doomed distraction charge, just to give Brianne a chance to get out.

But she’ll never abandon Kim, and there’s no way a girl with a shattered pelvis is climbing out a window.

“How bad is it?” Brianne asks me quietly. I take her to the far corner of the room and sit with her for a moment. I touch her hair and lean in to kiss her, wondering if this is the last time I’ll get to do this.

“I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.” But I’m not sure it’s true.

She can see through my bullshit. She touches my cheek and leans her forehead into mine. “They’re coming up soon, aren’t they?”

“We’ll hold out.”

“For what? Who’s coming?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll hold out.”

“I can call someone in the Hayes Group.”

“Ronan’s downstairs.” I tilt my chin forward and kiss her. “I don’t know if that will help.”

“I’ll try anyway. I know people. They’ll help if Ronan’s in trouble.”

I don’t argue. What can it hurt? But before I let her go make the call, I hold her tighter and kiss her again. She stares at me, her eyes brimming with tears. I’d tell her not to cry, that everything will be okay, but I don’t think that’s true.

And I don’t want one of the last things I say to her to be a lie.

“I fell for you hard, my wife,” I whisper, stroking a thumb down her cheek. “God, I wanted so much for us.”

“I fell for you too. I fell in love with you and I really didn’t want to.”

“I love you, Brianne.” I kiss her gently.

She returns the kiss with force. “I love you too. But this isn’t over. It can’t be over.”

“I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you safe. Do you hear me? I’ll kill a thousand men before they get to you.”

“Julien—”

“I love you.” I stand and stare down at her, determination surging in my chest. “I’ll come back for you.”

I turn and leave the room. Helga follows me out, looking grim. She knows better than most what’s going to happen next. I pull her close and speak low. “Don’t let them get taken.”

“I will not.”

“Good. Get Brianne out.”

She nods once. “That will mean leaving my patient behind.”

“I know. But if the Serbians reach the second floor and we can’t hold them any longer, get Brianne out. Promise me.”

“I will do what I can.”

Helga rejoins the girls and I walk away, not feeling better, but holding on to the hope that Brianne might get through this after all. I hate the idea of leaving Kim behind, but the Serbians don’t need her. She’s not a threat, and she’s not a part of my organization. That’ll protect her some.

Jean nods at me as I approach the main stairwell. “How bad down there?” I ask him.

“They’re gathering for a push. Won’t be long now.”

I count my soldiers waiting nearby, crouched in doorways and hiding around corners.

There aren’t enough.

Someone shouts my name from down below. I recognize the voice. I peer over the banister at a sea of bloodthirsty faces, half a dozen guns pointed in my direction, and Dusan’s standing in their midst.

“I’m surprised you came all the way out here just for me,” I call back to him.

“I decided this would be fun.” Dusan sounds much too relaxed. “So far, it has been.”

“You should go home. You and your men.”

“Why would we do that? We outnumber you two to one.”

“You’re about to rush into a well-defended choke point. We can hold you off for a long time.”

“You’ll run out of bullets eventually.” Dusan grins up at me like he really is enjoying himself. “You know the fucked-up part of this? It was your grandfather that called and told me about what happened.”

I curse to myself. I fucking knew it. “He’s an old fool and a traitor.”

“Maybe, but that old fool got one over on you. From what I can tell, he’s headed over to the Biancos right now.”

“And you’re okay with that? You think that’ll be good for you?”

“Oh, absolutely fucking not, but you don’t have to worry about it. You’ll be dead.” He reaches behind him and grabs something. I expect a gun, but instead it’s a small cylinder with a little circular tab at the top. “Good luck, Julien. I hope hell’s nice these days.”

Dusan pulls the tab and it hits me.

He’s got a fucking grenade.

“Get back!” I yell, throwing myself down the hall, as Dusan tosses the cylinder up onto the second-floor landing.

Two more follow.

Then the explosion rips into the building.