“In all the research I did on you... that’s not how it seemed.”
Cyan tilts his head. “Ahh. You Googled me.”
“I had to know where I stood.”
The corner of his lips twitches. “Well. Now you know.”
I hesitate, wanting to ask about his parents and sister, but the words lodge in my throat. Instead, I shift my focus to the world outside as the car pulls out of the garage. Morning sunlight filters through the tinted windows, casting the vehicle’s interior in a soft glow. The car moves along the winding path leading away from his cliffside estate. A salt-laced breeze drifts in through the cracked window. I glance back at the sprawling mansions. It’s an entire world hidden within Crescent Bay, a place where men like Cyan and his family rule. Armed men patrol the manicured grounds. The iron gates loom ahead, guarded by more men in perfectly tailored suits. Their eyes track the Mercedes as it rolls past. This isn’t just a home. It’s a fortress; if I am to escape, it will be from my office. As the estate fades into the background, the hustle of Crescent Bay comes into view.
People rush through their morning routines, blissfully unaware of the dark undercurrents that shape my reality. The silence stretches, heavy between us until I break it. If I’m going to escape, knowledge is my only weapon, and I need a lot more of it. “If Johnny’s part of the Ten Fists, then why is he, my chauffeur?”
Cyan doesn’t hesitate. “Because you’re important to me and that puts a big fucking target on your back, Johnny’s not just your driver, Aria. He’s your shield. Don’t let the boyish charm fool you; he’s a lethal motherfucker. If someone threatens you, Johnny won’t hesitate to put a bullet between their eyes.” I swallow. Cyan has caged me in so many ways I can’t even see all of them at once.
“Did Johnny take heat when I gave him the slip?” I ask, forcing my voice to sound casual. Cyan’s jaw ticks, but his tone remains even.
“No, as I told him, he didn’t need to shadow you while you were at work. But now I’ve rectified my mistake and have heavily increased your guards.” I exhale slowly. That’s another hurdle I’ll need to clear when I’m ready to make my move. Good to know. There’s nothing I can say to that, so I shift gears.
“So...is it true that all of you graduated from college?” A ghost of a curve plays on Cyan’s lips. “Yes. All my brothers had to. It was a requirement of mine.”
The thought of Troy the giant with his mohawk and permanent scowl hunched over financial spreadsheets is so absurd, I laugh. “So, Troy is really...?”
Cyan raises an eyebrow. “What’s funny?”
“I just—” I shake my head, still grinning. “Picture Troy with reading glasses crunching spreadsheets while threatening to stab someone with a calculator.”
Cyan chuckles, and it’s the kind that warms my skin then I remind myself he’s a devil and rein those feelings in. “I get your point; there’s nothing mild-mannered about Troy. But he’s a genius with numbers, like you. You’ll see when you get to know him.”Cyan can think what it wants, but I’m not interested in knowing him or his family.
I say as much aloud. “I’m not planning to stick around long enough for that.” He leans back, watching me. Damn my attitude, I’m supposed to be playing along, being a good captive. I hope that statement doesn’t lose me my work privileges. I rush to fill the silence. “What about Johnny? What’s his major?”
“Commercial Architecture.”
“Really?”
“He designed the homes we live in. The Boston high-rise, too.” Something tugs at me. An entire empire of educated men, each with the skills to build legitimate futures–and yet, they chose this world instead.
“Why?” I ask again. Now that I think about it, Cyan didn’t really answer my question last night.
His eyebrows crease. “Why, what?”
“Why the hell are you a mobster? You’re educated, so you have options. You could’ve been so much more.”
A long, tense beat passes before he answers. “When you see the worst of humanity, you either become a monster, or you let them take everything from you.” I shouldn’t care. This information isn’t important to me, doesn’t aid in my future escape plans. “This life?” he says. “It was my choice. The only way to ensure survival, for myself and for my family.” Silence settles between us again. His pain-filled eyes bore into mine, daring me to look away.
I push back, despite my earlier resolve to act like a good captive. “This can’t really be the life you wanted.” The words slip out before I can stop them. Maybe it’s anger. Maybe it’s the part of me that understands loss. “Because right now, all I see is power, fear, and death.” Cyan doesn’t react. I want to lean closer and demand he answers, but I don’t.
He brushes something off his jacket sleeve. “Death comes for us all, Dove, even for the law-abiding . The difference is I am the demon Death fears. I won’t lay down and let him claim me and mine.” A sharp pain knots in my chest at his words. I see his pain; it’s lurking beneath his hardened exterior, and it’s swallowing him whole.
For the briefest moment, I think maybe he could be pulled from the darkness. Then I shake off the insane thought. Cyan is not mine to fix. He’s, my captor. My stalker. A controlling bastard. Not a broken man looking for redemption. Feeling sorry for him is a luxury I can’t afford. Sympathy is a chain, and he’d love nothing more than to wrap it around my throat.
“So why did you make it a requirement for all your brothers to go to college if you planned to live in the criminal underworld?”
Cyan shifts, his gaze flicking toward the passing city streets. “For years, everyone considered the Irish as grunt workers while the Italians wore suits and collected the real money. If you asked for a bigger cut, they put a bullet in you and left you bleeding in the street. We made our choice. If we were going to be part of this life, we would run it.”
I swallow, processing his words. Cyan didn’t fall into the darkness. He walked into it willingly. “What did you study?”
His gaze flicks to mine, his jaw tenses, something predatory curling at the edges of his lips. “Master’s in applied mathematics with an emphasis on systems analysis.”
It explains too much. His intelligence, his ability to manipulate people like systems, his obsessive control, and... it explains why I’m so drawn to him. I bite my lip, pushing down the thought. “Why that field?”
