Thomas huffs. “You know us. We always do.”
“How’s Evie?” Gracie asks.
“She’s safe,” Thomas says, taking her hand. “Rosa’s with her.”
“She wasn’t hurt?”
“Not a scratch. She’s worried about you.”
“Then bring her. She needs to see that I’m okay.” Gracie’s voice trembles. I glance between them. Thomas should’ve been with her all along, and his marrying Lucilla never should’ve happened. Silence stretches. I force myself to ask the question that matters.
“Gracie? About Aria.”
She bites her lip. “Cyan... please don’t be angry with her. Aria was going to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“I’m breaking her trust,” Gracie says, barely audible. “Promise me you’ll still find her. No matter what.”
“I promise,” I say. “We will find her.”
She nods, wincing. “The night Aria was attacked in the alley… she was there because of Detective Ethan. He tried to recruit her–to spy on you. She said no.” Ice floods my veins.
“He tried again, and she refused. He told her she’d regret it.” Gracie’s breath stutters. “And the woman who shot me.” Her eyes meet mine. “She’s the one who handed Aria the phone.”
Fifty-Eight
“Monsters think they can break you if they make you bleed. But I’ve learned that pain doesn’t make me weaker. It sharpens my aim.”-Aria Boschett.
Consciousness creeps back, fog lacing my thoughts. My limbs feel heavy. My eyes flutter open, and I blink hard, trying to clear the haze. I shift, wincing. Across the room, an older man sits on a blue velvet loveseat, dressed in a vintage-cut suit like he owns the world and everything in it.
“Ah… you’re awake,” he says, voice smooth. His gaze pins me in place, and my skin prickles with unease. Authority radiates from him. Panic bubbles beneath my ribs, pressing at my lungs.
“Where am I?” I croak. “Who are you?” I scan the room; it’s plush, unfamiliar, no guards, just us.
“I apologize.” He inclines his head. “I forgot... you’re not of our world.” He leans forward, shadows carving deeper lines into his face. “Don Lorenzo Rizzotto.” He says his name like a coronation. Then he smirks. “I’m here to welcome you. Cyan won’t forget who holds the upper hand.”
Lorenzo.The name cuts through the fog like a blade. Memory slams back into place—Gracie, Evie, all that blood. Then there’s Olivia and Lucilla. I sit up too fast, heart hammering, and force myself to meet his gaze.No weakness, notnow, not in front of him.
“Nice to meet you, Lorenzo,” I force a laugh. “If I hadn’t been kidnapped, this might almost feel civil.” I steady my breath and glare at him. “You think I’m a pawn?”
He chuckles, entertained. “So that’s it. That fire.” He leans back. “That’s what drew Cyan to you.” His eyes glint. “But you misunderstand, my dear. The game has already begun. Your presence is simply part of my strategy.”
I clench my jaw. “You underestimate me. I’m not just a piece on your board. I won’t play your twisted game, like your snitch, Lucilla.”
His smile vanishes. “My daughter,” he says, coldly.
I feel a sinking sensation, and I can’t stop my mouth from falling open. “Lucilla is your daughter?”
He nods. “I sent her to Cyan. I should have snuffed him out long ago, but I enjoyed molding him into everything that woman didn’t want. Now, the ungrateful wretch dares to try to take what’s mine.” My brow furrows. The way his voice bit when he said the words “that woman.”Who is he referring to?
“You’re a coward, Cyan didn’t become who he is because of you. He became stronger in spite of you.” I meet his gaze, unflinching. “He’s more of a Don than you’ll ever be.”
Lorenzo’s mouth twists in disgust. “You think that pup deserves the throne I bled for?” His voice drops, sharpened to a growl. “Killing you would serve two purposes: punishing him and reminding the boy who the true king is.”
I lift my chin. “You can threaten me all you want.” I meet his gaze, defiance in mine. “Cyan will make you pay. You’re no king, Lorenzo.” I bare my teeth. “You’re a monster, and monsters fall.”
His smile curdles. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he sneers. “Cyan has no taste. Imagine choosing you over Lucilla.”
