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“I haven’t given up, El. I’m just playing a game with someone who is always five moves ahead of me.”
To my surprise, Ella scoffed. Her shoulders tensed and she narrowed her eyes at me. This was not the response I had been expecting. I thought she’d be prying for more information or—at the very least—fuming at me for ruining her life.
“Emma, you’re the strongest person I know.” Ella leaned forward, pinning me with her ferocity. “You recovered from Nate’s suicide. You survived after Mr. Ranucci blew his head off in front of you. I don’t care who this person is or how dangerous they are. They obviously don’t know what you’re capable of if they’re threatening our family. When someone comes after us, we don’t give up and hide. Five moves ahead, my ass. Get your shit together and play ten moves ahead of them.”
She slapped her hand on the table, and a fork fell to the checkered tile. I stared at it, Ella’s pep talk echoing around my empty skull.
“I’ll take a year off,” she continued, her voice softer and reassuring. “I’ve always wanted to see the West End, anyway. Mom and Dad will throw a fit, but I’m eighteen. They can’t stop me. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll stay out of the city.”
“It will,” I croaked in relief, reaching across the table and grabbing her warm hand.
“My bus will be at the terminal in an hour,” Ella said, eyeing me wearily. “I’ll go home and break the news to Mom and Dad. I’ll say I’ve had a change of heart and want to take a gap year. Plenty of people do it before college. But I’m calling you in a few days. If you don’t have a solid plan and a better attitude, I’ll come back and light a fire under your ass. Got it?”
“I got it.”
After the bill was paid, I watched my sister disappear into Port Authority. Ella wasn’t the same little girl I’d grown up with. Somewhere along the way, she’d matured, blooming into a tenacious young adult. As outgoing as she was, she’d been paying attention to the world around her—studying people, their habits, their dilemmas. She was a true artist, a student of the human condition. She was also right. It wasn’t like me to concede. Not after everything I’d been through. My situation might seem futile, but I’d been hopeless before.
Don Luca wasn’t just threatening me—he was threatening everyone I loved. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t retaliate? I wasn’t a fighter, but people could change. If I approached this like a huge test to study for, maybe I’d get a better result. I had to think of every possible outcome—every question—and have a countermove—an answer—for each. First, I needed an ally, a study buddy. Preferably one that had no clue what I was up to.
“Hey, Em,” Eoghan answered after the first ring, expectant.
I tossed my empty to-go cup into the recycling bin, not bothering for the light to change before I crossed the street. I didn’t have much time. I’d wasted the morning in panic and self-pity. If I was going to do this right, I needed to prepare for every eventuality.
“Eoghan,” I replied, clear and concise. I had a goal—beat Don Luca, ace this test. “My sister has a summer assignment for Tisch. She’s studying film and they want some sort of provocative, artsy bullshit to start the year off with a bang.” The lie rolled off my tongue like syrup. “She has an idea, but it’s not technically legal. I told her I’d help, but I thought of you first.”
Eoghan hesitated, but I’d piqued his interest. “What does she have in mind?”
“It’s a documentary on the food industry. She can’t use her own camera because it’s traceable. I’m assuming you’ve got a nice one in that nerd lab of yours?”
“I do,” he said, drawing out the ‘o’.
“Relax, Eoghan. It’s just an activism thing. If I give you an address, could you install a hidden camera within the next day or so? It’s in Jersey, but I’ll pay you for your ti—”
“Shut up, Emma. I’ll do it. Text me the address.”
I bit my lip at my luck. “Thanks.”
“Yup,” he answered with a click.
Holy shit.
This could work. I might be able to take down the New York Mafia.
I, Emma Marshall, was going to end Luca Nicoletti’s reign of terror.
* * * *
Two hours later, I stood in the elevator of Jack’s building.
It was time for me to tell him about my deal with Don Luca. I’d hidden it from him for months because I feared it would push him over the edge, but it was too late for that. He needed to know what was coming—maybe hire extra security for himself, although his pride would make that difficult. Some women would write a guy like Jack off after he had cheated on them, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing I’d put him in danger and didn’t at least make him aware of it.
When the doors slid open, I knew Jack wasn’t there. His presence always made me hyperaware, a type of magnetic pull that prickled my skin. Alas, the apartment was empty. I would have to leave a note. It’d be easier that way.
“You’ve been avoiding us, lass.”
I jumped, hand to my heart. The lights of the city cast an eerie glow over the living room. Mick sat on the leather armchair, ankle resting on his knee as if he’d been there awhile.
“How’d you get in here?” I asked.
