Lucien and Vincent locked eyes. Their mouths stayed still, but the silence between them spoke louder than anything they could have said.
Pain, betrayal, anger… everything simmered together into one vicious, boiling thing.
And for Lucien, there were only two ways to release it: beat Vincent into pulp or kill him.
Nothing in between.
Vincent tilted his head, voice laced with mockery. "What's wrong, Lucien? Don't tell me you can't swing because you still think of me as family. I was never De Luca. Never Lucero. You don't owe me anything."
Lucien let out a sharp laugh. "What makes you think I can't kill you?"
His smile didn't reach his eyes. "You're not family anymore. You're a rat, Vincent. And rats should stay on all fours."
Lucien jumped to him fast. There was no warning, not even the twitch of a shoulder. One heartbeat they were staring each other down, the next his fist drove straight into Vincent's wounded shoulder.
