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42 CARDEZ MONTAGUE

One second I was leaning in to kiss my wife, the next I was on the ground. I couldn’t see or hear shit past the ringing in my ears.

“Ughh.” My voice sounded muffled in my head.

I felt around as my vision cleared and realized I was laying on top of Belle. I rolled off her and saw the tulle of her dress was ripped from where I landed on her.

“Dez—I can’t see! Why can’t I see?” she screamed, reaching around frantically.

I went to answer her and tried to get to my feet, but the ground tilted under me.

I grabbed her hands. “I’m here, baby. I need you to stay down and don’t move.”

Her lips trembled as she nodded feebly.

Everything around us was complete chaos.

The men I had posted at the door were laying down in a pool of their own blood. Chairs were overturned. Members of the Table and their security had their guns drawn, but nobody knew who they were supposed to be pointing at.

I scanned the crowd for my guys.

Priest, Marco, and Yomi were good and still getting their bearings back as well. I saw Tariq checking on Siani who was sobbing holding a gash on her arm.

A deep voice boomed. “Cardez Montague!”

My head whipped toward the French doors Belle had come through earlier. A large man stood in the doorway, plucking out ear plugs and pulling off night vision goggles off his head. He was a big motherfucker with a heavily graying beard. His mouth curled into a wide grin as he took in the scene in front of him.

Solomon Graves. Had to be. How the fuck did he get past security?

“Let me stop you right there,” he said as I reached for my piece.

Two men from Maxwell’s detail moved in around him and blocked any shot I had. They went straight to him like they already knew where they were supposed to be standing.

Maxwell had betrayed us and gotten Solomon in. That was the only explanation.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pops struggling to get to his feet with his cane. Davis, his personal guard, was still knocked out cold.

“Orlando.” Solomon walked further into the room, stepping over toppled chairs and cowering guests. “I told you I was coming to collect, old friend.”

“Fuck you.” Pops was on his feet now. “I should’ve had your traitor ass killed while you were locked up.”

Solomon nodded. “A smarter man would’ve. But you were never as smart as you thought you were. That’s how I kept fucking Audrey right under your nose.”

Pop’s face moved through several emotions at once.

“She never wanted you,” he continued, seeing the crack in my father’s demeanor. “All this High Table politics bullshit, and your son ends up marrying a nobody.”

I balled my hands into fists. “I’ll fucking kill you.” I fought the urge to rush him. I couldn’t let my emotions get me killed.

“Keep my son and his wife out of it. This shit’s between me and you,” Pops said through gritted teeth.

Solomon pulled a gun from inside his suit jacket and pointed it at me. “Did he tell you what he did to get me away from your mother right after she got pregnant with you?”

“Shut up, Solomon!”

“Your precious father had his own consigliere locked up on trumped up charges. Paid off witnesses. Jury tampering.” Solomon’s voice rose with each word as he started pacing and waving his gun around.

I locked eyes with Priest and Yomi and flicked my gaze toward the men still covering Solomon. I prayed all these years of working together meant they understood what I was saying.