Rules of War

Maya's POV

The elevator door opened with a loud ding.

I stepped out and immediately wanted to step back in.

The basement was nothing like the fancy penthouse upstairs. The air smelled like blood and fear. Water dripped somewhere in the darkness. And the silence felt heavy, like it was pressing down on my chest.

"Welcome to the real world, princess."

I spun around to see a woman walking toward me from the shadows. She was older than me, maybe in her forties, with dark hair pulled back tight. Her clothes were simple but expensive. And her eyes...

Her eyes were like ice.

"You must be Maya," she said. "I'm Isabella Romano."

Marcus's aunt. The woman Dante had warned me about.

"Nice to meet you," I lied.

She laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"No, it's not. You're terrified. I can smell it on you."

"I'm not scared."

"Of course you are. Smart girls are always scared when they meet me."

She started walking in a slow circle around me. Like a shark swimming around its prey.

"So you're the famous Maya Volkov," she said. "The girl who brought down Vincent Chen. The girl who made my nephew soft."

"Marcus isn't soft."

"Marcus let you live after you called us puppeteers. That's soft."

"He was following orders."

"Marcus doesn't follow anyone's orders. Except mine."

She stopped circling and stood directly in front of me.

"Do you know why they brought you down here?" she asked.

"To meet you?"

"To see if you're worth keeping alive."

My stomach dropped.

"What?"

"The boys upstairs think you're special. They think you can help us win this war with your grandfather. But I'm not convinced."

"I signed the contract."

"A piece of paper. That's all that was. Anyone can sign their name."

She reached into her jacket and pulled something out.

A knife.

The blade was about six inches long and sharp enough to cut glass.

"This is what matters," she said, holding it up so it caught the dim light. "This is how we solve real problems."

She threw it at me.

I caught it without thinking.

"Good reflexes," Isabella said. "That's promising."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want to know if you're an asset or a liability, girl. And there's only one way to find out."

"Which is?"

"Prove which one you are."

Footsteps echoed from the other end of the basement. Two men in dark suits were dragging something between them.

Someone.

They threw him down on the concrete floor about ten feet away from us. The man groaned and tried to sit up, but his hands were tied behind his back.

His face was bloody. His clothes were torn. And he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Tommy Ricci," Isabella said. "He used to work for us. Now he works for your grandfather."

"A spy?"

"A rat. There's a difference."

I looked at the knife in my hand, then back at the man on the floor.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Everything. Tommy here has been feeding information to Ivan Volkov for three months. Every safe house location. Every business meeting. Every weakness he could find."

My blood went cold.

"Including information about me?"

"Oh yes. Tommy was very helpful when it came to you. He told your grandfather exactly where you were sleeping every night."

The man on the floor looked up at me with desperate eyes.

"Please," he whispered. "I have kids. I was just trying to protect my family."

"By selling out mine?" Isabella asked.

"I didn't have a choice!"

"Everyone has a choice."

She turned back to me.

"Speaking of choices, you have one to make right now."

"What kind of choice?"

Isabella pointed at Tommy Ricci.

"Kill the rat."

The words hit me like a slap.

"What?"

"You heard me. Prove you're one of us. Prove you understand how this world works."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

"Wrong answer."

She pulled out her own knife. This one was bigger than mine.

"See, here's the problem, Maya. This man betrayed us. He put all of our lives in danger, including yours. In our world, that means death."

"So you kill him."

"I'm not the one trying to join the family."

"I already joined. I signed the contract."

"Contracts are for lawyers and politicians. This is about blood and loyalty."

She walked over to Tommy and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back.

"This man would have watched you die," she said to me. "He would have collected his money from your grandfather and gone home to his precious children. And he wouldn't have felt sorry about it for one second."

"That doesn't mean I should kill him."

"It means you should want to kill him."

"Well, I don't."

Isabella sighed like I was a disappointing student.

"Let me ask you something, Maya. What do you think happened to the three men who died protecting you last night?"

"They were killed."

"By who?"

"The assassins."

"Assassins who knew exactly where to find you because of information from people like Tommy."

I looked down at the man again. He was shaking now.

"Please," he said to me. "I was just trying to survive."

"So were the men who died because of you," Isabella said.

She let go of his hair and walked back over to me.

"I'm going to tell you something important, Maya. In this life, there are only two kinds of people. Predators and prey. Which one are you?"

"I don't know."

"Then figure it out. Right now."

She nodded toward Tommy.

"That man is prey. He's weak and scared and willing to betray anyone to save himself. Sound familiar?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Because that sounds a lot like your fake father Vincent. And look how that turned out."

The comparison made my chest tight.

"I'm not like Vincent."

"Prove it."

"By committing murder?"

"By taking responsibility. By showing that you understand the rules of war."

"What rules?"

"Rule number one: traitors die. Rule number two: family comes first. Rule number three: mercy is weakness."

"Those are terrible rules."

"Those are survival rules. And if you want to inherit your grandfather's empire, you better learn them fast."

I gripped the knife tighter.

"What if I refuse?"

"Then you're not who we thought you were. And we'll have to make other arrangements."

"You'll kill me."

"We'll protect ourselves. From you."

The basement got quiet except for Tommy's heavy breathing and the sound of water still dripping somewhere in the dark.

"The boys upstairs think you're special," Isabella said. "They think you have what it takes to be one of us. But I think you're just another scared little girl playing dress-up."

"I'm not scared."

"Then prove it."

She walked over to one of the concrete pillars and leaned against it with her arms crossed.

"You have thirty seconds to decide, Maya. Kill the rat, or admit you don't belong here."

"And if I kill him?"

"Then you take your first real step toward becoming Maya Volkov instead of Maya Chen."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you go upstairs, pack your things, and we never see each other again."

"You'd really let me leave?"

"I'd really make you disappear."

The difference in her tone told me everything I needed to know.

I looked at Tommy again. This broken, bloody man who had sold out my protectors for money.

"How do I know he's really guilty?" I asked.

"Because I don't lie to family," Isabella said. "And despite what you might think, you are family now."

"Even if I refuse to kill him?"

"Especially if you refuse. Because that will prove you're not ready for this life."

I raised the knife.

Tommy started crying.

"Please," he sobbed. "I'm sorry. I'll do anything. I'll disappear. You'll never see me again."

"You're right," I said quietly. "I won't."

But as I started to move toward him, something stopped me.

A memory.

My mother's voice from years ago, back when I thought she was just a paranoid housewife teaching me self-defense.

"Maya," she had said, "never kill unless you have absolutely no other choice. Once you cross that line, you can never go back."

I looked up at Isabella.

"There has to be another way."

"There is no other way."

"What if we use him as bait? Set a trap for my grandfather?"

"Too risky."

"What if we fake his death and hide him somewhere?"

"Too complicated."

"What if—"

"Maya."

Isabella's voice cut through my suggestions like a blade.

"Stop thinking like prey and start thinking like a predator. This man betrayed us. He has to die. The only question is whether you're strong enough to do what needs to be done."

I looked down at the knife again.

Then at Tommy.

Then back at Isabella.

"And if I kill him, you'll accept me as family?"

"I'll accept you as someone worth testing further."

"That's not the same thing."

"No, it's not. But it's a start."

I walked slowly toward Tommy. Each step felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

"I have children," he pleaded. "Two little girls. They need their father."

"You should have thought about that before you betrayed us," I said.

"I was scared!"

"So am I."

I raised the knife above my head.

Tommy closed his eyes and started praying.

I took a deep breath.

And then I heard footsteps on the stairs behind me.

"Maya, stop!"

It was Marcus's voice.

I turned around to see him and the other three men running down the stairs.

"Don't do it," Dante said. "This isn't your test."

"What?"

Isabella started laughing.

"Oh, this is rich. The four knights come to save their princess."

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"The test was never about killing Tommy," Isabella explained. "The test was about seeing how far you'd go to prove yourself."

"You mean...?"

"I mean you passed the moment you picked up the knife and walked toward him. Most people would have run screaming."

I stared at her.

"So this was all fake?"

"The test was real. Tommy's crimes were real. Your choice was real."

"But you weren't really going to make me kill him?"

Isabella smiled.

It was not a nice smile.

"Who says I'm not?"