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“And now, she and Dante are gone.”
“You didn’t follow them?”
“We did.”
I smirk. “You lost them?”
“The Harts have been in the organization for a decade. Dante practically invented some of our more modern disappearing techniques.” She sighs. “They’re gone.”
I hide the relief. “I’m sure they’ll turn up.”
“As soon as you find them, yes.” She raises a brow. “Clear your schedule, Archer. You’re going to be very busy for a while.”
“What makes you think I know where they’d go now?”
“According to my sources, you were on your way to pick him up very recently.”
I play dumb. “What sources?”
“Not your concern. Just get it done. The Boss has already run out of patience with this matter and she doesn’t want them causing problems next week.”
“What happens next week?”
She opens her mouth to answer but the stairway door opens down the hall.
Enzo Zappia steps into the hallway with a wide grin and a brown briefcase at his side. His jaw drops as he hops over the dead bodies like a giddy child on his way toward us.
I look at Myra. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“He’s my client,” she says, turning on her heels. “Efficiency, Archer. If I’m going to waste time hunting our own employees, I might as well make a little money while I’m at it.”
My eyes fall to Elijah again. She sold him. She fucking sold him.
Enzo stops in front of us and laughs as soon as he sees Elijah in the elevator. “Oh, now that…” He sighs. “That is a beautiful sight. Well done, Ms. Myra. My father will be very happy to see this. Should perk him right up.”
“It was my pleasure, Mr. Zappia,” she says.
He flashes a flirtatious wink. “Enzo, please.”
Myra ignores it and stares at him, patiently waiting until he takes the hint. He holds out the briefcase and she snatches it from him.
He grins at me. “Hey, Allen. No hard feelings, right? I was kind of a dick before but that’s business. You understand.”
I hold back the urge to crush his face. “Entirely.”
Myra lowers the briefcase to her side. “Archer, please carry the package to Mr. Zappia’s car.”
The package?
He’s a fucking person.
The twin of the woman I love. I couldn’t see how much they resembled each other until now. The same long eyelashes. The same nose and cheekbones. His hair is a dark chestnut. I suppose that’s Lilah’s real color beneath the fire-red dye…
“Archer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, shaking out of it.
I lower down to my knees to pull Elijah off the floor. His blood coats my hands and it chills me to the bone. This is Hart blood. Lilah’s blood. It easily could have been her in my arms right now.
