*WARNING* Graphic violence will occur in this chapter. Please be advised.*

To everyone that yelled at me on Instagram to finish the chapter when I asked for motivation, thank you, I appreciate you all.

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Uncle George raised his arms slowly, his fingers shaking. The gun remained steady in my hand. Everything slowly fell into place. Behind him, Santiago stood wide-eyed, hanging onto the door frame of my parent's room.

I gritted my teeth together, my throat in pain from yelling at him. Silent tears streamed down my face.

My uncle opened his mouth. "Anastasia, we're family, why would I—?"

"My father is my blood and even he betrays me regularly," I said in a monotone voice, "your words mean nothing to me." My voice cracked. His facial expression showed one of fear and sadness but his eyes told me a different story. I tilted the gun sideways. "How could you do this to us?" I whispered, "To your husband."

Immediately his face changed, a certain kind of anguish causing the wrinkles in his aged face to become more prominent. "I didn't kill him," he scrambled to his knees, "I would never hurt Ronnie."

I scoffed. "You may as well have with this bloody list."

He stiffened. "I had to put his name down otherwise it would have been too suspicious." He tried to defend himself, looking manic. "I didn't think that Ronnie would be the first target on that list, I wanted them to kill your father!" He roared.

Eyes rolling, I threw my arms wide, making him duck from the uncontrolled gun action. "So then why the fuck didn't you just make a kill list with just his name? You dragged the whole family into it."

Uncle George stared at me with hopeless eyes. "I wanted this lifestyle to be over."

"Why?" I yelled, annoyance coating my words at his stupid replies. "You could have just left, no one would blame you, you think we want to be living the lives we do?" I spoke loudly, my voice taking on a hysterical tone, pressing the gun to his forehead. "News flash, we don't," I whispered.

"Ana?" Finn's voice called out to me and that's when I realized the sound of chaos had disappeared leaving my voice to carry throughout the house. "Ana, what are you doing?"

I sighed, closing my eyes for a split second. Uncle George surged forward, knocking the gun from my grip, causing my arm to seize up in pain from the bullet graze I got earlier. I dropped into a crouch and swept my leg out, knocking him off balance.

Kicking the gun out of reach, I stood up and glared down at my uncle lying on the floor. "Santiago," his head snapped up in attention, "Get my father." Uncle George's chest heaved. "We're going to have a little family chat."

Using my good arm, I grabbed my uncle by his collar and dragged him forward a few steps. Elijah stared down at my uncle, a horrified and hurt expression on his face. Jasper's face was blank. Franco stood to the side with Finn, who pressed his hands over a bleeding wound from Franco's side.

Uncle George sat up, a scowl on his face and his hair sticking up at odd angles. He pushed himself onto his knees and reached out to grab my hand. "Ana, please—."

I stepped back and he fell forward, his chin hitting the tiled floor. "You've lost all my respect and all my trust in a matter of seconds," I said, looking down at him, "save your begging for someone willing to listen." My head cocked to the side, keeping one eye on Uncle George. "The mercenaries?"

Jasper stepped forward, his hands in his pockets. "Dealt with." I nodded, giving my uncle my full attention.

"Anastasia, we're family," Uncle George pleaded, pushing up onto his hands.

One of my eyebrows lifted in disgust. "You lost the privilege to consider me family the second I saw Harvey's dead body at the bottom of the stairs," I replied in a cold tone.

The silence around us thickened. No one was brave enough to question how this came to light or what we were going to do from here. While he betrayed us, Uncle George was still family, the only adult besides Uncle Ronnie to care for our well-being as children. Now all those memories were tainted with betrayal.

"Finn," I said softly. He watched me carefully. "Take Franco down to the infirmary, do what you have to." He stared for a moment, battling his inner thoughts on whether or not to come to me or listen to me. My head shook once. He nodded and led Franco back down the steps.

Unable to stand still I voiced a thought that sprang through my mind. "You warned me about Shan," I stated, "you told me that he was going to try and kill me." I shook my head, confused thoughts fogging my brain. "Why warn me when he could have finished the job for you?"

Uncle George gulped, looking up at me with remorse. I ignored it. "I had to tell you, I heard about it at the Country Club, there were too many people that would have been suspicious if I hadn't informed you about the attack."

"Prick," I muttered.

Minutes later, my father walked out, followed closely by my mother. "What is the meaning of this, we're under attack," my father declared, his brows furrowed.

I waved him off. "Already been dealt with no thanks to you," I commented. I turned to face my father. "If you care to know, I've found our list creator," I said, placing a hand on my uncle's shoulder and pivoting him in my father's direction.

My father's footsteps slowed. His face remained impassive while my mother gaped at the scene. "Explain yourself."

I stepped back, letting my father take rank over the situation. Elijah sidled up next to me. "Harvey?" I breathed, my chest constricting.

Fingers found mine and squeezed. "I'm sorry, sis," he murmured.

A lone tear slipped down my cheek.

My attention snapped back to the impromptu interrogation in front of me. Elijah squeezed my hand, his face trained on our uncle, kneeling on the floor. Uncle George's face contorted into one of pure rage. "You deserved to die," he spat, "Ronnie and I knew you were looking to replace him and you killed him because of it, you monster!" He yelled, his wrinkled face turning red. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

My father stood still, listening quietly. When Uncle George added nothing else my father's lips turned down in a frown. "Actually, I killed him because he wanted to challenge me."

My brain short-circuited.

What?

The words stumbled out of my mouth. "You killed your own brother?" I questioned blatantly. My mother stood rigid behind him, staring at the back of her husband's head.

He glared at me for the interruption. "He wanted control, and I couldn't allow that to happen, so I dealt with it."

I shocked breath left my lips. Elijah's fingers nearly cut off the circulation in mine, he was squeezing so tight.

Uncle George moaned in agony. "I knew it was you that night," he wheezed, "I knew it," he mumbled to himself.

My father shrugged. "And yet, you still wired me the money for his death from your pathetic list." Eyes tracked my father's movement as he slowly walked around my uncle. "Were you hoping to actually achieve your goal of destroying my legacy?" he asked condescendingly. "Unfortunate for you that my children are more than capable of surviving, they learned from the best after all."

Jasper's foot moved an inch forward. I grabbed his forearm, stopping him from going further. His body visibly shook from the pent-up anger at our father's words. We did know how to survive and we did learn it from him but only because he was the one we were trying to survive from.

Uncle George slumped his head forward. "I just wanted it all to end," he said in a defeated voice.

"By putting targets on my children's heads? Not very family orientated of you, is it?" my father said, chuckling to himself. "Look at what you've made them do," my father said flourishing a hand to the carnage around us, "you claim you want to end this lifestyle yet your list only encouraged it, my children had to kill these men just to protect their family." He stopped in front of my uncle. "Your little mission accomplished nothing, George, only more death."

Uncle George spat at his feet. I stiffened. My father glanced down at his shoes and then raised his arm, backhanding my uncle across the face.

"These shoes cost more than your life, George." Father lifted his head. "It's a shame really, I honestly admired your tenacity to actually send out a kill list against your only family but it's backfired and now you're here, kneeling on the ground before me like a child being scolded. You always were the most pathetic member of this family, too bad Ronnie fell in love with you."

Stepping forward, I slipped my hands behind my back, my fingers brushing against the gun in the waistband of my leggings. "If George created the list then why did you send people after us?" I boldly questioned.

Santiago's eyes were wide at my courage. My mother shook her head, trying to force me into submission. Both my brothers stepped forward to stand on either side of me.

My father sighed as if the question alone exhausted him. "You weren't producing results, Anastasia, how else was I going to encourage you?" he asked rhetorically.

I tilted my head, meeting his stare head-on. "How about you be here, instead of running away like a fucking coward?" I asked, my words cold.

"A coward?" He angled his head, the blue in his eyes like ice. "I give you temporary power and you have the gall to call me a coward?"

"I don't know what else to call you except what you are," I answered, lifting my chin in defiance. "Yes, my uncle betrayed us and tried to get us killed but you are our father and were doing it for fun," I accused. "In this family, we stick together no matter the risks, we support, we are supposed to trust one another and you have pegged us against each other since birth in the hopes that we don't do exactly that. You've always wanted to control us by keeping us distanced from each other."

He gave me an unimpressed look. "Obviously."

I bristled, my fingers clenching until my knuckles hurt. "And you killed your only brother because of a challenge?"

"Anybody that crosses me, faces the consequences," he said in a deadly calm voice, "Ronnie decided he could take me on so I showed him that he can't. You don't gain loyalty by being nice, Anastasia. That was always your one flaw," he mused, his focus settling on me, "You think my men would follow you over me because you let them off their leashes once in a while?" His eyebrows lifted as if he were genuinely waiting for an answer. I refused to rise to his bait. "Well, they won't. They're loyal to the hand that feeds them."

He walked forward until he was inches away from my face. I stared straight at him, not breaking eye contact. Reaching around me, he grabbed the gun from my waistband and stepped back, a small smile taunting his face. "You'll never live up to my legacy, you don't have the guts to betray your family to get what you want," he said softly.

I clenched my teeth, grinding my molars.

He held on tightly to the gun now in his possession. "Now, George on the other hand, he's got the biggest guts of us all since he didn't betray just one member, he betrayed us all."

In a breath, he raised his gun to the back of Uncle George's head and fired.

My jaw dropped open, my eyes wide as my uncle slumped to the floor. My mother screamed, her face pale. I heard a strangled noise further down the hallway and saw Atticus crouched on the floor against the wall, a hand over his mouth and tears on his cheeks.

Pieces of my heart broke for my little brother at having to witness this. I swallowed the thick lump in my throat.

My father waved a hand in the air. "Anastasia, your poor work ethic has shown me that you are incapable of leading this family and the business I've built. I dismiss you from your duties as Head of the Family and will take back the control."

"You can't do that," I said, sniffing lightly at the emotion clogging my throat. "You signed everything over to me."

He spared me a single glance over his shoulder. "Well, then you'll just have to sign them all back over to me," his head tilted at the same time he casually aimed the gun in my direction, "Or you can end up like your dear old uncle here. The choice is yours." He moved to stand next to the wreck that was my mother. Mascara smudged tears streamed down her eyes as she stared at uncle George. My father sighed. "Somebody clean up this mess."

"NYPD FREEZE!"

Everyone on the landing stilled. My eyes darted to the stairs where a dozen or more police officers pointed their weapons at us. Nobody moved an inch. Not even my father, who stood next to my uncle's body, holding a gun.

To move an inch would be to accept death.

They raided through the manor. Orders were yelled as they stomped up the grand staircase, surrounding us. "Hands in the air!" One of them wearing a helmet yelled.

Some of them held shields in their arms and if I weren't so stunned, I would have laughed in their faces at the overprotective.

One by one we raised our hands in the air.

My father moved to lift his hands. "Julian Love, drop the gun!"

"Drop it! Drop it!"

His jaw clenched at their incessant yelling and slowly lowered the gun to the floor. The rest of us remained as statues.

"Now, kick it over here," one of them said, holding his hand out like he was taming a wild beast. Something I could understand.

My whole body shook. Elijah and Jasper stayed next to me, their face impassive as they stared straight ahead.

One of the armed officers stalked to the end of the hallway and grabbed Atticus by the scruff of his neck. He whimpered. "Hey!" I yelled, my hands dropping as I took a step forward, "don't you fucking touch him, he's a minor!"

Guns pointed at me and I froze, hands moving back in the air.

Footsteps scuffed on the marble floor. "Damn," a voice mused from downstairs, "nice house...you know if it weren't destroyed to shit." Their voice carried up the stairs as their boots marched closer.

A scuffle sounded from behind us. I angled my head and caught an officer shoving Owen out of a room and into the landing between the grand staircase where we all stood. He kept quiet, his eyes on the ground.

They narrowed at something on the floor before he pretended to trip, falling flat on the floor. The officer guiding him leaned down and tried to pull him to his feet. Owen quickly scrambled to his knees, his fingers grabbing the cellphone I had dropped on the floor earlier, and slipped it into his jeans pocket.

I nodded gratefully and he silently tipped his head to the side, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.

"Oh," that voice murmured in shock as they stopped at the top of the stairs, "well that doesn't look good," they remarked, their lips pursed as they took in the dead body.

We all stared at the woman in silence.

She brushed her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair out of her face, her green eyes sparkling. "Forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself," she said to all of us as we stood there, hands in the air. "I'm Tessa Hayes, FBI. And you, Julian Love, are under arrest." She smirked, placing her hands on her hips.

My father tilted his head mockingly at Tessa. "Under what circumstances?" He dared to ask. My mother stood stiffly, pressing herself into Atticus since she couldn't wrap her arms around him.

Tessa gave him an 'are you joking?' look and stared at the body next to my father's feet before looking up at him. "Besides the fact that you were waving around a gun in front of a freshly dead body?" She asked sarcastically. "Well shit, it might also be that we tracked down the owner of a very specific handgun whose bullets are handcrafted, this gun was used in the murders that led to a car exploding not twenty minutes from this exact location," she said sauntering over to him.

He stared at her, unable to look down since she was roughly over six feet.

Tessa grinned. "Guess whose gun it was, c'mon we'll make this fun for everyone. I'll give you three guesses." Everyone remained silent as she scuffed her black combat boots along my mother's marble floor, leaving black streaks behind. "Fine, I'll give you a hint," she began, reaching into the back pocket of her black jeans and whipping out a pair of handcuffs, slapping them on one of my father's wrists in the air. "It's the person being handcuffed."

After handcuffing him securely, she waved over another Agent who wore a windbreaker with the letters FBI written on the back in yellow and told them to read him the Miranda Rights.

Tessa surveyed the space. "We might as well arrest him for homicide while we're at it," she said, pulling out a ziplock bag and using it to pick up the discarded gun. She handed it off to an officer. "Go find the actual gun we're arresting him for." The officer gulped and nodded his head, rushing away from her.

My father seethed as someone tried to make him move. "Who spoke?" he demanded, looking at Jasper, Elijah, and myself. We kept our faces neutral. "How dare you—."

A loud groan filled the air. "Oh my god, shut up," Tessa said, rolling her eyes, "you sound like the villain in a bad soap opera." She spun on one heel until she faced me. "Anastasia Love, you're under arrest for aiding and abetting Julian Love."

My face dropped. "What?"

Tessa stood in front of me with a shit-eating grin on her face. "We have a witness that places you at the crash site of the explosion hours later."

It felt like I was underwater. Muffled voices were the only thing I could hear as the cold bite of metal slapped around each wrist, restraining me. My brothers lurched forward, yelling something to Tessa but she only stared them down, unflinching.

"Ana!" Finn yelled, appearing from nowhere and moving towards me. An officer moved to intercept him but Finn dodged him, sidestepping him until he was in front of me. Half a dozen officers moved to restrain him but Tessa held up a hand, stopping them from acting.

Finn pressed his cold hands to my cheeks. "It's okay, we'll get a lawyer," he said in a rush, his fingers dancing over my skin, "the best one we can find."

I leaned into his touch. "Finn, I'm sorry I dragged you into this—."

He pressed a kiss to my lips, silencing my apologies. "No," he said firmly, "No apologies. You'll be fine, okay? You will," he promised, pressing his lips to my temple. "I adore you, Ana," he whispered and I closed my eyes.

"I trust you," I breathed as Tessa clapped her hands, gaining everyone's attention.

She cleared her throat. "Okay, this is getting too sappy, let's go." Jasper and Elijah moved forward again, both of them speaking but Tessa glared. "If you two don't shut the fuck up and get out of my way, I'll have you arrested for obstruction. Now, one of my agents will remain to take everyone's statements."

"Stand down," I said to them, eyeing Santiago in the corner, inching towards us. "I'll be fine."

Finn pressed another kiss to my temple before moving out of the way. I looked into his eyes, giving him a small defeated smile as tears pricked my eyes. 'It's okay,' I mouthed, nodding my head. His lips were pressed into a thin line.

I broke eye contact first when an officer steered me to the stairs. I marched down them, my father next to me. I turned my head to face him, my eyes showing how angry I was. "What did you do?" I hissed, staring at him.

Police officers were dragging the bodies of the mercenaries that tried to kill us. Tessa leaned down in front of one of the bodies and touched his neck. After a couple of seconds, she looked up at the officer standing over her and nodded.

"And what kind of fucking idiot gets a gun that only takes handcrafted bullets?" I whisper-yelled as we were escorted outside into the bright sunlight.

Tessa moved to open one of the SUVs. My father was placed into that one while Tessa jumped in the front passenger seat. The Agent holding my arm pushed me towards the opposite side and shoved me inside.

Once all the doors were shut, the car slipped into gear and drove down the driveway. With a final glance, I looked towards the manor, wishing I could see Finn or my siblings standing in the doorway but the only thing I saw were EMTs wheeling a bodybag down the steps.

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Tessa Motherfucking Hayes is in the house!!!

So, what did we think? Tell me everything!

Until next time,

Sammipott xx