Guys, if you're rereading (affectionately called RR's) please please please do not comment spoilers because I can't promise to delete every single one of them and I want people to be just as surprised as you were when first reading. Thank you.

Also, will you guys go check the announcement I posted to Bombshells (if you've read the book, if you haven't then you don't need to worry about it)? Pretty please?

The dress above is sort of what I picture for Gemma's dress? Not exactly, but it's as close as I can get to the image in my mind. Just imagine the back is cut low as well, but not too low because Gemma is twelve. This is a super long update to make up for my terrible-author-ness lately.

Happy reading!

Gemma's POV:

The blood was everywhere. Splashed across walls, pooling on the floor. There was so much that I could taste the iron whenever I breathed in. I gagged against the taste of death.

A whimper escaped my lips as I tried to make my way down the hall. The once lavishly decorated hall looked like it was a set from a bad action movie, million dollar paintings ruined forever and plaster crumbling around bullet holes. My heels were too loud, the sound of clicking breaking the thick silence that wrapped around me.

I stepped over the body of a boy who looked to be sixteen or seventeen, eyes wide and empty and dead. He was dead. He was a waiter, I'd seen him handing out drinks to people who believed he was there to service them, not to provide a life from himself.

Bodies were scattered. Everywhere I looked there was another body. Another body that used to be a person. Everyone around me was dead.

Damian's knife, the one he'd pressed into my hands when the whole ordeal began, slipped from my grasp when my ankle rolled, my shoes putting me off balance. It took me a second to register that I'd fallen into a puddle of blood, that it was sticky and warm and covering me.

I bit down on my trembling bottom lip in an effort to keep from crying out for one of my brothers. I wanted my brothers. Where were they? Why did they leave me? Tobias had promised, he swore, that he wouldn't leave my side for an instant. Where was he?

Bile slid up from my stomach, burning my throat and my nose. I tried so hard to keep it down, clenching my teeth to the point of pain.

The crimson staining my clothes and my skin was still wet. It wasn't drying. It was sliding from the palms of my hands, down my wrists and traveling to my elbow. I sobbed quietly, scrubbing at the sides of my dress. I didn't care about how expensive the fabric was at that moment, I just wanted the blood off. I didn't want it on me. I wanted it off!

Tears dripped from my chin and onto the floor. I held my bottom lip captive, relishing in the pain that woke me up from my panicked daze. I had to get up. All of my attention went to getting up, making it to my feet, and I did so. The pain of my twisted ankle radiated up through my knee, twinging whenever I put too much weight on it, but I didn't care.

God, I could still taste the blood whenever I breathed in. The taste nearly make the threat of me vomiting a reality. It was all I could smell, blood and death, and on top of that now I could taste it. Oh god, I was going to be sick.

"Gemma!" Someone was shaking my shoulder, standing in front of me all of a sudden. I hadn't seen this strange man approach me, nor had I heard him over the ringing in my ears. I didn't move, didn't react. I couldn't. I slowly lifted my gaze, looking him over. I didn't recognize him at all and briefly wondered if he worked for my brothers.

I showed him my palms, still covered in blood, and he cooed. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and started wiping my hands. I could've cried in relief.

"Who are you?" I could feel my lips form the words but my ears were still ringing, my head still spinning, much too loudly for me to hear myself speak. The man smiled down at me, eyes warm and understanding.

"Your brothers sent a bunch of men out searching for you when they couldn't find you. My name is Gus, I'm going to take you to your brothers." He introduced himself, crouching down just enough to detangle my fingers from the knife Damian had entrusted me with. I wanted to fight him for it, battle for my only means of protecting myself against this new man, but I couldn't move my arms.

I didn't even think I would be able to walk. I could hardly speak.

Gus took hold of one of my hands, tugging me towards what I assumed to be an exit. I didn't care where he was taking me, so long as I was headed towards my brothers and away from the carnage.

Silent tears slid down my face, dropping onto my feet as I walked. How had all of this even happened?

Eight Hours Earlier:

I turned in a circle, studying the dress I'd bought weeks ago. The skirt fluttered around the back of my ankles, the skirt a see-through tulle with black flowers decorating it here and there. That part of the skirt was only on the back, making it a sort of train I guess. The black, definitely not see-through skirt that kept all the goods covered was an inch or two above my knee. The top half the dress was so much better than the bottom half. A simple diamond belt Sinclair had surprised me with was wrapped around my waist, surprisingly lighter than I thought it would be.

I'm not a dress maker so I don't know the technical terms for the top half of the dress, but it was just as silky as the bottom half. The sleeves were made of the same see-through material with black flowers speckled across the material. The back dipped a little low, to like the middle of my spine. The scars were evident but I was trying my very best to not worry about them.

I slipped on my black heels, which were hardly even heels. They were more like two inch height-boosters, which made it even more embarrassing that I couldn't walk in them. I'd made several laps around my room in an attempt to get used to them earlier.

The obsidian hair piece Zion bought me kept my hair up and out of my face, except for the two pieces of hair hanging by the sides of my face, framing it. The diamond choker felt somewhat confining but I was determined to wear it for the night because it was freaking awesome. The diamond bracelet tickled the skin of my underarm, but I thought it looked good so I decided to deal with it.

"Gemma, we're going to be late if you don't hurry up!" Tobias shouted from outside my door, rapping on it with his knuckles as he spoke. I hadn't allowed any of my brothers to peak at what I was wearing, even though I got the strangest feeling Damian knew what I was going to wear.

Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised me if they all knew exactly what I was wearing. Knowing information that others tried to keep secret seemed to be a genetically inherited trait in our family.

"Coming, coming. And you call me impatient." I grumbled, waddling towards the door and opening it with a flourish. Tobias looked me up and down, a warm smile curling his lips and lightening his eyes. I twirled around, hoping my skirt didn't get caught under my feet and leave me sprawled across the floor.

Tobias put a hand on my shoulder, holding me in place with my back turned towards him. I could feel him tense behind me.

"You look beautiful, minha vida." (My life) He kissed the top of my head, breathing in my scent. It was probably helping him keep his temper in check. When he pulled away from me, his smile was tighter and his eyes darker. I had no doubt that my scars set off his protective, angry, mafia brother instinct.

At least he didn't completely lose his shit like all the brothers in those other mafia-brother stories on Wattpad.

I think we've already established that the fourth wall doesn't exactly exist here.

"Thank you." I attempted a curtsy and nearly fell over myself trying to get up. Tobias grabbed me around the waist and swung me around so that I settled on his hip, my legs twisting around waist as I tried to keep my shoes from scuffing against each other. It was harder than it sounded.

I wasn't wearing any makeup - I tried but Zion nearly had a aneurism - so I laid my cheek against his shoulder with a happy sigh. His hand came up to rub my back and I hummed.

"You sure you want to go?" Tobias asked, obviously ready to drop me off in my room and cancel our whole trip. I lifted my head off his shoulder, pouting at his enthusiasm.

"No! Wait, yes. No... I mean I want to go." I huffed out a breath. Tobias said something in Italian that I feel is my moral responsibility to not translate in an effort to keep my readers innocent. Well, as innocent as possible.

"There's my gorgeous baby." Damian pushed himself out of the couch in one of our sitting rooms when Tobias and I entered. He came towards us with his arms outstretched, snatching me away from my eldest brother without a care in the world. My face ended up smushed against his shoulder so I couldn't scold him about messing up my hair.

Zion came to my rescue, tapping Damian on the shoulder and then taking me away from my youngest brother. I huffed, trying to settle my hair once more as Damian complained about Zion being a buzzkill. Sinclair got down on his knees behind me, which still didn't make him shorter than me, and helped me fix my hair. I kissed him on the cheek in thanks when he finished.

"The car is here. Here are your coms," Tobias said, passing around the tiny, nude earpieces. "Be careful not to be spotted with them in. Zion, you remember your role for tonight?" He asked, tucking the com into his right ear. I did the same. It felt like an earbud that was being pressed a little too far into my ear, but was otherwise comfortable. It had a set volume and no off button so there wasn't any reason to fiddle with it.

Zion nodded. He was playing the part of renowned nuclear physicist Dalton Quinn, a man I'd read up on a couple nights ago. He was widely respected even though no one had ever seen his face. His sister had accepted his Nobel Peace Prize for him two years ago, which was something never done before.

I thought my brother's looked too much alike to not get caught but they were confident so I was just rolling with the punches.

"Got it." Zion confirmed with a stern look. Damian pulled a curved knife from his jacket, winking at me when he caught me looking, before shoving it back into the navy blue tux jacket. I think that particular knife was called a karambit? I shrugged it off.

"Gemma, do you remember the rules for tonight?" Tobias asked, kneeling to look me in the eyes. I pursed my lips. I was the only one who got a set of rules for the night. I understood that I was the weakest link but what a way to make a girl feel incompetent.

"Yup. Stay with either you, Sinclair, or Damian at all times, don't take food from strangers, be careful who I talk to, if I hear anything close to a Ukrainian accent get one of you immediately, if I get separated from you at any time stay where I am and cut anyone who tries to touch me. Oh, and if anything happens, use the people around me as human shields!" I recalled, counting off the rules on my fingers. The last one was added by Damian in private but none of my brothers looked all that upset with it.

"Good girl. You have your knife?" Tobias asked, petting my hair lovingly. I smiled widely, tapping the outside of my thigh, where the tiny knife sheath sat comfortably.

"Yeppers peppers," I giggled. My smile dimmed. "Promise to stay with me?" I asked softly in an odd moment of vulnerability. I didn't like crowds and this would be the first time I was leaving the mansion for anything that wasn't a threat on my life or a poisoning. I guess they were the same thing.

Tobias grew even more serious in that moment. I didn't think that was possible but apparently it was.

"I swear." He answered. That was that.

Nerves were bubbling up in my stomach but along with those nerves came excitement. I was going to my first charity ball wearing a literal knife under my several hundred dollar dress. Not to mention I was attending with my criminal brothers. I was so ready for this!

There were two cars waiting out front, one for Tobias, Sinclair, Damian, and I and the other car for poor Zion, who had to enter alone to avoid rousing suspicion.

Sure, the four might've been fraternal but they still shared similar features I didn't doubt were going to get us busted. This was bound to turn into a thrilling night.

The drive was a little under an hour. I ran over the plan in my head multiple times, unconsciously spinning the rings on Sinclair's fingers. I hadn't even realized I'd stolen his hand until I noticed a weird weight in my lap and my fingers moving. Sinclair didn't seem to mind and it helped soothe any anxieties I was having so I continued.

When we got reasonably close to the ball, Damian starting quizzing me on the best way to incapacitate someone. He'd taught me a few tricks that would keep me out of mortal danger and give me enough time to run for my life need be. I answered each question easily, having memorized the answers as Damian was teaching.

"We're here." Sinclair said, opening the door. He was dressed in an all black tux which he'd claimed to hate more than once. I thought he looked very spiffy.

I gulped down my nerves, tightening my grip on Damian's hand as I slid out of the car after him in an effort to not trip over my own feet. I was the last one out of the car, my shoes hitting the red carpet laid out before us with a soft thud. It was hard enough walking on hard, flat surfaces and now they were asking me to walk on a carpeted surface? Someone wanted me to fall and break my neck.

There were reporters and paparazzi jammed close to a velvet rope that kept them several feet away from the guests. Big bodybuilder-looking men and women were evenly spaced, guarding the guests from the flashing cameras. One camera got a little too close to my face, a question being shouted so loud I missed what he said as the flash momentarily blinded me, and Tobias had a hand wrapped around the man's neck before I could blink.

Two bodyguards took the reporter away, the man still shrieking questions about the legitimacy of my claims. People doubted we were really related? I should've known that would happen, considering the car accident that killed my parents and I almost thirteen years ago was public information, but it honestly hadn't even crossed my mind.

"Don't think about it. Keep your chin up and keep moving." Damian advised, a steady hand on my shoulder. I leaned into his touch, the feeling of safety that came with his touch was calming.

We kept moving until we entered the building. I gasped, my eyes flickering over everything. The mansion was even bigger than home. An intricate chandelier hung from the roof, one after the other. Paintings on the wall, costing upwards of a hundred million collectively, boasted of the owners wealth and artistic eye.

A champagne tower caught my gaze and I gasped again. I'd always wanted to see one in person. This was so cool!

"Found the bar. Thank God." Damian sighed in relief. Tobias hissed something under his breath, probably something about not drinking as Damian grumbled petulantly and sulked for the next fifteen minutes of my exploration.

My brothers stayed close to me, letting me go where I wanted and look at what I liked but still staying within a couple of feet of me at all times. It felt like I had three shadows attached to me.

After a while, Zion appeared, shaking hands with a slew of different celebrities and politicians and criminal kingpins that wanted to congratulate him on winning his Nobel Peace Prize. Only it wasn't Zion they were congratulating. Poor Dalton Quinn.

I wonder what my brothers did to keep him out of the picture for tonight.

Blackmail?

Threats?

Bribery?

None of the above would shock me. I had zero faith in their taking the moral high ground in such situations. Not that it bothered me, of course, but still. Absolutely no faith.

"Ah, Mr. Perigoso, have you met Dr. Quinn yet?" An older man who was weirdly happy, walked up to Tobias and gestured to Zion, who was at the strange man's side. Tobias didn't even react. I quickly realized my brothers were amazing at keeping a poker face in place.

"I haven't had the pleasure. It's nice to meet you." Tobias shook Zion's hand. The strange man looked down at me, obviously burning with curiosity. He definitely wanted to ask who the heck I was and why I was at this party but didn't have the courage to question someone as feared as my eldest brother.

Another strange man, this one scowling and a total mood dampener, walked up to us. He clapped Zion on the shoulder, a move I could tell my brother didn't appreciate. This new stranger looked Zion up and down, smiling a little too widely to be genuine.

"Dr. Quinn, I actually had a few questions about your research about theoretical nuclear reactions." The man started, clearly waiting for Zion to jump in and be nerdy about nuclear physics. Zion froze, muscles tensing as he tried to think of something on the fly.

I rolled my eyes, knowing I was about to have to save my brother's ass. Again. Seriously, they always talked about saving me. Hah. What a joke.

"Me too! I'm a huge fan of your newest book. Your way of explaining the primary emphasis on non-relativistic collision and scattering theory was incredible. I also enjoyed how a substantial segment of the book is dedicated to high-energy, relativistic, and ultrarelativistic interactions. I loved how it all ended with a chapter on the interactions of mesons with nuclei." I smiled up at my brother and the old grouch sweetly. I was pretty much begging my brother to take my opening and run with it.

Zion patted me on the shoulder, his smile tight and eyes confused.

"I'm glad I'm reaching a younger crowd. How on earth did you go about finding my book?" He asked, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the two older men who were staring at me like I'd just grown another head. It wasn't like I'd said something horrifying, like cheesecake is gross, so I didn't know what they were gaping at me for.

The two men eventually wandered off when they realized none of the Perigoso brothers were going to pay them the slightest bit of attention. Zion breathed out shakily when they left, lips quirking up at the sides as their footsteps faded and the noises of the crowds rose up again.

"Is there even a point in asking how you know all that?" Zion asked, eyes gentle as he looked down at me. I shrugged one shoulder, playing it off.

"I did a bit of light reading." I smirked.

The next few hours continued on and I got bored fast. All the adults treated me like I was a second grader, slowing down their words and enunciating clearly. I was ready to gouge out my own eyes after a while of playing the adorable little sister role.

I mean, it was a role I always filled, but still. It's okay when my brothers call me cute but not anyone else.

After a while Damian could tell my feet were hurting and that I was just done with the conversations about stock prices in Spain, so he led me over to the bar with a swift promise to Tobias not to drink anything. He picked me up under the arms and sat me on a barstool, calling over a waiter who looked like he was, maybe, sixteen.

"Can you grab my sister a water Tommy?" Damian asked, reading the boy's name off the metallic tag stuck on his velvet vest. The boy nodded quickly, dashing off to do as asked. He was back in a couple of seconds, accepting the gracious tip Damian slipped him with a grateful dip of his head.

"Thank you!" I called after his retreating form, uncapping the bottled water. He disappeared in the crowd so I was pretty sure he hadn't heard me.

I sipped at the water, leaning my head against Damian's bicep. He chuckled at me.

"This is why I hate these things. So tedious. And people are always trying to hire me to kill someone." Damian explained. I looked up at him, concerned that he'd be overheard, when I came to the realization that it didn't matter if someone was eavesdropping. It wasn't like they could do anything to him anyway.

"Next time I say I want to come to one of these things, slap the common sense back into me please." I groaned loudly, leaning all my weight on Damian. He didn't even move an inch.

We stayed there for fifteen or so minutes. Damian perked up, eyes going dark in a way I hadn't seen since the cartel attacked our home. I tugged at his sleeve, worried that something had happened.

"Gemma, when I say move, climb over the counter and get under it. When you get under, pull your knife out and stab anyone who isn't one of us." Damian ordered. His voice was cold and unfeeling. I'd heard such tones from Tobias and even Zion, but Damian was my warmest brother. He'd never spoken to me in such a way.

I didn't take offense, but it did take me off guard for a moment. I nodded, releasing his sleeve.

"Okay." I whispered.

No one else had noticed anything wrong so I wondered what supernatural senses my brothers possessed to tell him of the dangers approaching that no one else could see.

Unlike the last time I was in a firefight, I recognized the first gunshot. Then the second. Damian lifted me off my seat in a second, barely shouting 'go' over the screaming of guests and the dozens of gunshots filling the air. I was under the counter in a split second, scrambling to pull my knife out of its sheath on my thigh.

I took a deep breath, remembering Damian's words when he taught me what to do in this exact situation.

'Fear can kill you, sweetheart. It's good to be afraid, but you can't let it control your actions. You have to breathe through it, calm your heart, and do what needs to be done to survive.' I did as he'd ordered hours before the ball and breathed, trying to calm my racing heart.

I'd done it before when George locked me in the storage closet in the hall, in the dark space for days on end. I could do it again. Slightly different circumstances but the same fear because fear never changed. Fear was just fear. The reason you were afraid might've changed but fear itself was always the same feeling.

A bullet whizzed over my head, connecting with one of the fancy liquor bottles placed on a shelf above me. I curled into a tighter ball, gripping my knife when I heard something hit the floor near me. A blur whirled over the counter and I stalled my hand just fast enough to avoid stabbing my brother in the jugular.

"Good job, baby, but I need this counter for cover. Tobias is going to take you somewhere to hide." Damian rubbed a hand over my head, eyes bright with a manic energy that sent a not-so-comforting shiver down my spine. I knew my brother was danger, had seen him take out multiple armed intruders without so much as a sweat, but seeing the glee in his eyes at the idea of death up close was different.

It didn't frighten me by any means, but it did concern me slightly.

Maybe it was time to invest in a family therapist. Yeah, that might've been a good idea to have several weeks ago.

Tobias broke me out of my pondering by yanking my hand. Before he could yank me too far away, Damian pressed his favorite knife into my hand and winked at me, taking a sliver pistol out of his jacket a second later. Where had he even stashed that?

Tobias pulled me over the counter with one arm, the other hand steady around a matte black Glock. His eyes, attentive and assessing, moved across the room before allowing the two of us to move in tandem. He led me to a hallway, a closet with a lock on the inside our destination.

Oh no. No, no, no, no.

I didn't like the dark. I didn't like enclosed spaces. I was severely claustrophobic. I couldn't go back into the closet. Not the closet, anywhere but there.

I grabbed Tobias's sleeves pleadingly, but he didn't even look down at me.

"Not there, Tobias, please. Anywhere but there. Not the closet, please not the closet." I begged, tears welling up in my eyes and my chest heaved in fear. The gunshots didn't scare me as much as the idea of going back into a closet did.

Tobias saw the fear in my eyes and his face crumpled in pain. Logically I understood that it was the safest place at the moment, the only place the intruders wouldn't check and wouldn't be able to get into on the off chance they escaped my brothers, but the fear was overriding all of my logic.

"I'm so sorry, baby, but you have to. I know it's scary, I know, but it's what's safest right now." He begged, eyes wide as he tried to make me understand. I shook my head, my bottom lip trembling violently.

"I promise I'll hide really well. I promise. Just don't make me go in there." I cried, my knees close to buckling as my heart beat even faster.

I'm sorry, Damian, but this wasn't a fear I could breathe through. This wasn't even a fear I could think through.

"I love you. I will come back and get you out, okay?" Tobias said, opening the door and slowly shuffling me back. I kept shaking my head, blubbering incomprehensibly. A tear slipped down his cheek but he wiped it away roughly with the back of his hand.

"I'll be good. Please, Tobi? Please, I promise I'll be better." I whimpered, sinking to the ground of the closet. Tobias opened his mouth to say something, but a gunshot hitting the wall near his head caused him to spin around and slam the door closed.

"But you promised not to leave me."

The dark consumed me and I covered my ears with my hands, trying not to scream. I tried so hard not to cry or whimper or do anything but breathe evenly.

Tobias did this because he loved me and wanted to keep me safe. He was coming back.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Oh God, I was going to suffocate in here. The walls were slowly creeping closer to me and I knew I wouldn't last much longer in there without having a panic attack. I was spiraling and I knew that, but I couldn't help it.

The door was suddenly slammed open, the stream of light like an angels calling. I breathed in deeply for the first time in minutes that felt like hours. My lungs burned and my throat felt raw but I could care less. My eyes were too watery to see who my savior was, but I didn't care. I could've kissed their feet for getting me out of there.

"Holy shit!" The man, dressed in a tux and slightly intoxicated, yelped when he saw me curled into a still panting ball on the floor. My eyes widened when blood splashed across me and the man who'd opened the closet door fell to the ground, dead at my feet.

I stared into his unblinking eyes for a split second before looking up to see who had shot him. Whoever it was must've left before seeing me, as there wasn't anyone else in the hallway. At least, no one else left alive. Bodies were splayed across the hallway floor, once fleeing guests forever still.

I made it to my feet. My legs fell out from under me. My panic attack had made my legs numb but adrenaline was starting to emotionally numb me and I knew I had to get somewhere safe. I wasn't sure where I was going but I knew I had to get somewhere safe.

When Tobias and I were moving I lost my smaller knife. The only weapon I had was Damian's knife. Oh, God. The blood was everywhere.

Flashback Ended:

There was a door in front of me. Gus had an arm wrapped around my shoulder, partially holding me up. I'd unknowingly given the man most of my weight to carry.

The firefight, seeing Damian kill, all the bodies. It hadn't bothered me at home.

Home was home. I was comfortable. I knew the exits. I knew my brothers would protect me. At least at home, my brothers were there. They weren't here. Where were they? I wanted my big brothers.

The gunfire was scary enough but going into that closet was a reminder of everything terrifying I'd been through while living with George. Torture I never wanted to relive ran through my mind at light speed as I stumbled over bodies and slipped in puddles of blood.

Tommy. The waiters name was Tommy. The sixteen year old boy, Tommy, was dead. I wondered what his parents, his loved ones, would be told about his death.

Gus opened the door with a grunt of effort. The chilly night air hit me like a slap to the face. And then something did hit me. Whatever it was hit me across the back my head and everything went dark.