“Leaving Rocco as the last D’ImmortaliPentarch standing. Free to run this Dynasty as he sees fit, so long as he answers to Blackwood.”
“I can’t believe Rocco’s selling us all out,” I muttered. “Betraying the Dynasty itself. I thought he believed insomething, for fuck’s sake.”
Not that I held onto any lofty ideals of honor these days, but damn. Lord Cesare Blackwood was more treacherous, more violent, and more ruthless than even my uncle. I’d only met him once, and that was enough.
Along with a coalition of our business partners, Enzo and I had negotiated a new trade agreement in Rome with the Bellamorte Dynasty, and after meeting Blackwood, I’d begged father to return to Venice as soon as the meeting was over. The high-ranking members of the coalition who stayed in Rome vanished that night, and Severin hadn’t made a single charge stick against Blackwood.
Like he was untouchable.
I glanced at Nico. Wondered if he’d been part of that investigation, and the fact that the lord had slipped between his fingers still rubbed him the wrong way.
“Giovanni, Marcello, the Bellamorte Dynasty in Rome…” Nico shook his head. “This is so much bigger than we thought.”
Suddenly, the missing Basin took on even more ominous tones.
“So, where does the Basin fit in? What if Rocco handed it over to Blackwood?”
Even Nico shuddered at that. “Then we are truly fucked because while Giovanni is a cruel, self-aggrandizing prick, Blackwood is something far, far worse.”
“And what is that?” I asked, stuffing the letters back where I found them.
“He’s sadistic in ways you cannot imagine, Em. Andwhile almost everyone in this world has someone they care about,”—his pale eyes caught on mine—“Blackwood killed his own son when he thought the boy was getting too ambitious. And he didn’t send an assassin; he slaughtered him at his own coming-of-age party, in front of the other guests.”
“Gods, that’s…” Heavy boot steps trod across the floor overhead, cutting me off.
Hidden by Nico’s shadows, we slipped back upstairs, along the shadowed corridors, moving faster now—but quieter too, every step measured, every breath controlled. Once we reached one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, we closed our eyes and dematerialized, slivers of red wax still stuck to my sweating palm.
44
DANTE
Iknew exactly where my wife was.
And who she was with.
I stormed to the other side of the kitchen, anger turning to frenzy, my temper about to become an explosion I couldn’t control.
Knowing where Emberline was… that should be my main concern.
Not the fact that Nico was with her.
Nico, who would keep her safe. Nico, who would lie down in the line of fire for her. Nico, who was fucking in love with my wife, and now that they were together, alone, I felt like I was being boiled alive in my own skin.
Our blood bond was an insistent pull pulsing beneath my ribs, like a second heartbeat tugging me north—across the water, deep into the snow-covered Dolomites. Every now and then, the bond sharpened with a flare of her awareness, a rush of adrenaline… curiosity.
Not fear, godsdamnit.
Because if Emberline was afraid, I’d have a good excuse to go after her, all this jealousy covered up by theveryreasonable,verysane explanation of keeping my wife safe.
Notbecause I was drowning in rage.Notbecause she snuck out of the house without telling me. Nope. That bullshit definitely would not fly.
I braced my hands on the edge of the kitchen counterand bowed my head, jaw locked so tight, my teeth ached. Surrounded only by the unsteady hum of the old refrigerator and the faint crackle of the inferno building inside me.
The fire that never really went out.
Icouldfollow the blood bond, kick down Rocco’s doors, and make some lame excuse about her disappearing without leaving me a note. But I wouldn’t.
Because Emberline would always do the right thing. Because she’d made me a promise. Some small part of me relaxed, an unfamiliar warmth flooding into my chest like honey. It took me a second to realize what it was.
