I couldn’t find you until you showed up in New York. Don’t worry, I’m not planning to strike now. Just want you to know I can reach you. You took everything from me. You’ll pay.”
Nico’s jaw twitches. “I went after Ettore’s men. Before you left, I was torturing one of his guys. I did everything to keep you safe. Once you had fled town, I talked to your father. I warned him they’d never stop hunting you. He said he knew that. He’d reviewed the grounds’ security footage from the day you, your mother, and Krew were taken hostage. He saw the man who witnessed it all. That’s why your father kept you heavily guarded. Eventually, he tracked down the informant who had leaked information to Ettore—and he killed him.”
I lift my chin. “Good.”
“You see, your mother, brother, and father were no longer the target. Just you, sweetheart. I couldn’t stand for that. Your dad did the right thing by going to Sergio for help.”
“Yeah, it gave me somewhat of a normal life. Even though I was heavily guarded at all times.”
His voice drops low, like a confession meant only for the dark.
“I started two wars.” He pauses, letting that settle. “And I didn’t go to my brother. I found someone else. Someone with enough power to match what I was walking into.”
He halts, and his eyes are somewhere far away.
“I dismantled Ettore’s operation piece by piece. Took down his spots one by one. Got shot twice doing it. Thank God for Kevlar.”
My mouth falls open and my heart is slamming against my ribs so hard I’m convinced he can hear it.
“Then one night, they came for me.”
He’s quiet for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice is measured. Too measured, like a man who’s rehearsed staying calm about something that nearly destroyed him.
“I woke up to the sound of a helicopter. Not passing over — hovering. Right above the house.” His jaw tightens. “Clad only in a black t-shirt, cargo pants, and socks, I snatched my Glock from the nightstand and leapt out of bed.”
I press my hand to my mouth.
“Then the windows started breaking. Every single one. Downstairs first, then mine. A man came through the glass like he’d been dropped from the sky, still connected to a cable, boots crunching through the frame. He had an AK-47 trained on me before he even found his footing.”
He exhales slowly through his nose.
“I sprinted into the hallway. Gunfire was erupting downstairs. It was chaos. The kind that tells you you’re outnumbered. I aimed my Glock at the bastard who’d broken in and fired several shots. His bulletproof vest allowed him to return fire effortlessly. I dashed towards the stairs. Another mantried to escape the other bedroom, but one of my men took him down. Lune sprinted halfway up the stairs toward me.”
Something shifts in his face when he says his name. A fracture behind his eyes.
“My back pressed against the wall, I aimed my Glock in both directions. Lune covered the bedroom doorway while I watched the other doorway. We were locked in — moving pieces on the same board, same as always. Lune fired at the man stepping out of my bedroom, forcing him to retreat back inside. Another figure crept up behind Lune. I fired at him. Bullet to the head.”
He swallows.
“Then a third man slipped out from the right. He must’ve already taken out my soldier. He opened fire on both of us.”
“Nico…” My voice cracks as tears spill over.
He lifts a hand, telling me to stay where I am. He’s not done.
“I felt it. Two shots. I hit him in the neck before he dropped, but he got me again on the way down.”
His voice goes quiet. Almost gentle.
“Lune,” he called out like he was reliving the moment. “I slid down the wall, hand pressed to my stomach, the floor rushing up to meet me. My eyes were closing, and I was sure that was it. I was sure I was done.”
He slips his fingers slowly through his hair. “But it wasn’t me they took.”
The silence that follows is suffocating.
“They killed Lune.”
The three words land like stones dropping into still water.
