“This will take time,” he said, more to himself than to either of us. “And I have other matters to attend to. Cut herdown. No water. No food. We’ll see what a few days and an empty stomach can do.” Silence settled in his wake, and Bruno exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders like a man settling in for a long night before heading in my direction.
I lifted my head, meeting his eyes, and this time, when I smiled, there was nothing weak about it.
Because Giovanni might be the one asking the questions.
But Bruno was the one I had to break.
52
GABRIEL
We were waiting for a lead on Emberline when a boat cut across the water, expensive and sleek, moving like a black bullet.
“What the fuck is this?” I muttered.
“That’s the Demente emblem on the hull,” Nico observed, one foot braced on the dock as we watched it approach, heading straight toward us.
Since I hadn’t been able to get a bead on her through our blood bond, I’d sent my father’s vast network of spies—now my spies—out into the city to beat down doors and trade secrets. I’d offered a million pieces of gold for her location, so they were motivated.
We expected something within the hour.
Beside me, I sensed my brother’s restless impatience as Rocco’s boat pulled up to the dock, Nico positioning himself in front of me like a shield. “Not taking any chances,” he murmured, checking the safety on his weapon.
We weren’t expecting company tonight, not with Marcello’s body still warm, yet Rocco Demente stepped smoothly onto my island like he owned the place.
His long coat hung heavy from his shoulders, dark fabric almost brushing against the stone as he moved with unhurried confidence. No visible escort tonight, so he’d left his guards at home. Or my brother had roasted all the bastards on that island during the carnage.
“Gabriel,” Rocco greeted, his voice carrying as he walked up to us, the empty boat knocking against the seawall, two of my soldiers hurrying to tie it off.
I didn’t step forward. Didn’t offer the same courtesy to an unannounced visitor—one who was, most likely, our enemy. But in my world, there was a thin line between enemies and allies, and often, patience was all that stood between the two.
“Rocco,” I returned flatly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Dante pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against, arms falling loose at his sides as he studied Rocco. Nothing out of the ordinary—the same gloating smirk, same silver-tipped cane, same casual, ancient arrogance.
Rocco’s gaze flicked to him briefly, taking him in. The too-tight clothes. The fact that he was alive and not a prisoner in the Fossa.
“Dante, good to see you out and about.” Something like approval crossed his face. “I knew nothing could keep you down for long.”
“You’re either overly confident,” Dante said, voice carrying, “or a fucking fool, coming here, given the situation.”
By now, Rocco would know the Basin was gone. Chances were, he also knew Giovanni was tearing the city apart looking for the relic. And since those were his guards at the scene, he knew who took it.
His mouth twitched. “I’ve been called both. Hard to say which one is more accurate. Given the day, let’s go with a fucking fool, since I’ve come to offer my assistance. I heard you’ve gotten yourselves in over your heads.”
I didn’t expect him to reveal his hand so quickly, but I was all about speeding this bullshit up.
All I could focus on was Emberline and the fact that nomatter what Giovanni did to her, she had nothing to confess. And I knew what happened when a prisoner wouldn’t talk.
Fuck.I focused harder on that faint hum inside me of Emberline’s blood, following it out and out and out… northward… where it trailed off into nothing.
“I’m not here to fight,” Rocco explained, holding up his hands as Dante loomed over him. “I came to prevent an all-out war, which does us no good.”
Like my brother, violence pressed close beneath my skin, sharp and restless, but I kept my baser instincts leashed. Why was this fucker here, sniffing around so soon after Marcello’s death?
“We’re having a busy night, Rocco,” I cut in. “Say what you came to say.”
Rocco’s attention shifted back to me, the faint humor draining from his expression when he spotted the gold signet ring on my finger. So, hehadn’tknown my father was gone.
