Page 160 of Lethal King

“Alright,” she weakly accepts. My heart sinks. I can tell she’s emotionally exhausted. And even if I want to burn the world to ashes, I hold back my rage until I’ve seen her to bed.

“Have you been able to recover any security footage from the night Tytus broke in?” I ask Maksim, after I’ve gently clicked Mel’s door shut behind us.

“No,” he admits. “He did a good job of covering his tracks.”

“Must have had help from Rozalia,” I growl.

The thought makes my gut churn.

I didn’t think she’d go that far, not after what we’ve been through. But I guess I was wrong.

“And what about the impending attack our spies informed you about?” I ask, trying to get my mind off the betrayal. But I can’t. And even the word betrayal feels wrong.

No matter what kind of feelings I’m developing for Rozalia, she’s still my enemy.

How can your enemy betray you?

By making you like them…

“We still aren’t sure where it might take place, or even who’s going to carry it out. We’ve only heard rumblings that it’s certain to happen soon. Someone has put the underworld on notice. They want everyone watching as they attack us.”

“I can guess who’s going to carry it out,” I grunt.

Maksim nods.

“We should send more men to search Leander’s last two properties.”

I shake my head. “No. They haven’t earned the honor. Either you go, or I do.”

Maksim doesn’t fight back. “Alright. Who’s it going to be?”

Looking back over my shoulder, I think of how scared Mel must have been when she came across Tytus.

It makes my decision easy.

No matter how badly I want to kill Leander with my own two hands, I need to stay here and look after my sister.

“You go. Bring a team of your most skilled and trusted men,” I tell Maksim. “I know you haven’t completely lost faith in everyone yet. Here’s your chance to prove their worth.”

“We won’t let you down,” Maksim says.

Usually, my uncle takes an order and runs with it, sometimes even before I finish speaking. But not this time.

No. For some, he doesn’t immediately leave. Instead, he hovers in place for a moment.

“Is there anything else?” I ask, slightly concerned.

In response, my uncle opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. When he shuts it again, a thousand alarm bells go off in my head.

“What?” I demand to know.

“… The Italians still want to meet,” Maksim finally speaks. But it’s clearly not what he was going to say first. This is just a distraction. I’m not going to fall for it.

“Tell them I’m busy,” I brush him off. “What we’re you going to say before that?”

“I… It’s not my place,” he says, pursing his lips.

“I give you permission to step out of line.”