Except he had.I’d seen it with my own eyes.
“The thing is locked up inside a warded vault.” Nico tried to soothe my concerns. “Guarded by a rotating patrol of handpicked guards. Severin himself does an inspection once a day, and when he can’t, Lucien Delvecchio makes the rounds, instead.”
“Lucien?” I asked curiously.
“An old friend, and one I trust,” Nico said. “He’s a freelancer, of sorts, Severin uses him for delicate jobs.”
“I’d still feel better if…”
“My wife has a point,” Dante interrupted, his softening gaze locked on me. “Put eyes on the Basin, make sure it’s secure. Then we can all sleep at night.”
“I’ll confirm it’s there, then use Marcello’s dying as an excuse to add a few more guards. I’ll hand-pick them myself.” Nico gave me a sympathetic nod.
A cold chill slid down my spine. Wondering, as always, if Giovanni was already a step ahead of us, as he’d always been a step ahead of his enemies.
Dante finally leaned back, running a hand over his jaw. “I’m not saying you’re wrong about the Basin being saferwith us, Emberline,”—he touched my hand—“but I don’t want you anywhere near that thing, now that we know it’s dangerous.”
“I agree with that.” Gabriel nodded. “Nico, secure the Basin. I’m heading back to the island to meet with the healers for an update.”
Nico was already turning toward the door. “Severin can plant a story about an undisclosed threat. Make sure we don’t set off any warning bells,” he finished, his eyes more intense than usual. “I’ll leave now.”
“Make sure he understands what’s at stake,” Dante said.
Nico’s expression darkened. “He does, trust me.” Then he was gone, the door shutting behind him with a quiet, final click.
Gabriel straightened, glancing between Dante and me. “Marcello’s death is going to trigger all-out war. Your uncle will come for us, and he won’t hold back. Are you both ready?”
“I’m ready, though I do feel cheated,” I admitted quietly, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. “I always thought I’d be the one to kill Marcello. And my uncle got him in the end.”
Gabriel’s brow furrowed slightly. “Emberline…”
“Marcello didn’t kill Enzo,” I went on, looking at Dante now. “But he did hurt you. And after everything…” My throat tightened, “I just feel like he’s getting off too easy. He should be suffering, like he made you suffer, in a prison cell for the next fifty years.”
No, Marcello got to die in his own bed, relatively painlessly, wrapped in healer’s spells and opium, drifting away on a calm sea. My husband’s suffering had left lasting scars I saw with my very own eyes.
No consequences. No reckoning. No godsdamned justice.
Dante’s gaze met mine, something raw flickering beneath the surface. Softness, too, and I reached out and took his hand.
“You think I don’t feel the same?” he said softly, and the room seemed to shrink down to just the two of us. “My entire life,” he continued, “everything he did to me… I told myself one day I’d make him pay.” A hollow laugh escaped him. “And now? He’s dying in a bed somewhere, rotting from the inside out. A shitty way to go.”
Still, this wasn’t justice. Not even close.
Gabriel’s expression was unreadable when he pushed off the table. “We don’t always get the ending we want.” His voice had softened, just a fraction.
“But the world will be a better place when he’s gone.”
The storm blew through,taking our electricity with it. I pored over the tiny handwritten notes, nose practically pressed to the old, yellowed paper. Technically, I hadn’t discovered anything new, but there was still a stack to go through, and it seemed a shame to leave any page unturned, so to speak.
The front door blew open, and for a second, I thought it was just the wind.
But Nico was there, rain-drenched, outlined by a gray sky. Chest rising and falling like he’d run the entire way back, darkness pouring off him in sheets of shadow. Hestepped inside, dragging a hand through his hair, his eyes unfocused.
“Severin’s locked down the island,” he said. “No one in or out. I was the last one through the fixed gate. I came straight here.”
“Why would he lock…” I asked, even though my stomach had already started to drop. When Nico looked at me, I knew.
“No,” I whispered. “How?”
