“I say we let nature… or, in this case, silver oxide, take its course.” An unrepentant Nico shrugged. “Save ourselves the trouble. If Marcello dies, Gabriel takes over the Dynasty, and our plan moves forward faster, with less red tape.”
“Except that makes Gabriel his next target. The pompous bastard was very talkative when he signed my execution order, the day before you three arrived, so… uhm…” Dante leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, a sheepish look on his face. “Thank you for coming.”
Everything inside me went quiet. Ottavia was right to warn me, right about Dante only having a day left. I leanedback into the couch beside my husband, exhaustion finally taking its toll.
How had she known?I’d ask Emilia, but she’d probably charge me another godsdamned favor for the information.
“Always such a way with words,” Nico smirked, though the smile seemed forced. “Execution order, huh? And what wasyourcontingency plan, hero?”
“Take as many of those bastards with me when I went.” Dante’s words pulled me out of my thoughts and sent a bolt of terror straight through my heart.
“That’s not a plan; that’s a suicide pact.” I shook my head, horrified at what would have happened if we’d been even a day late.
“So, what was this meeting between Giovanni and Severin?” Dante asked, looking between his brother and Nico as if he was deciding who to throttle first. “Did one of you geniuses witness them talking, or…”
“I did,” I volunteered, wilting beneath Dante’s glare. “Giovanni asked Severin for a favor, they argued. The meeting took place at the Draconi fortress.”
“Hard place to get into without an invitation,” Nico pointed out, boots still up on the table, and again, I was too tired to scold him, but not too tired to be irritated.
“What favor?” Dante leaned forward, his glower even darker.
“That’s why we spoke to Severin before we headed to the Fossa. We had to make sure we weren’t betrayed by our closest ally.” I blew out a breath. “According to him, my uncle requested a tour of the fortress. His request was denied.”
“And… why would he want to see the fortress?” Dante turned to me. “Sounds like a bullshit reason to me.”
Nico’s mouth twisted. “We thought the same. Maybe he went there to test our defenses or get a look at our wards first hand… I don’t know, but Severin locked the island down and doubled the guard on that gate. Anyone comes through, they’ll have to fight their way through a hundred Vendetarri.”
“Severin’s on our side.” Nico nodded, as if to himself. “If Giovanni contacts him again, he’ll let us know.”
“There’s a fuckton more, but it can wait until tomorrow. Nico, are you coming?” Gabriel pushed off the wall. “Let’s find this chef, get him talking, call in a healer to treat Marcello for silver oxide poisoning.”
It seemed unfair, grotesque, even, to save the Don, only to execute him later, but that was the way of things. Violence begets violence, and this was the world we lived in.
Dante’s eyes were wary when I pressed my hand against his chest, over the uneven rise and fall of his breathing, grounding myself in the fact that he washere.
Warm.
Alive.
Dante’s throat worked. His eyes were so blue, like the ocean stretching out before me. His fingers captured my wrist, and my breath stuttered.
Gabriel spoke from the doorway, his voice cool. “We’re safe for the moment. It will take Giovanni time to regroup after what happened, time to question any surviving guards and prisoners. After I deal with Marcello, I’ll keep my ears to the ground for information coming out of the Fossa.” He cleared his throat, eyes bouncing between us. “You two should… get some rest.” Then he was gone, the house was empty.
I ran my fingers over my husband, cataloging every newwound, every fresh bruise, and made myself a silent promise.
Whatever came next, Giovanni would learn to suffer, and he would learn to beg because I was going to make him pay for every new scar.
And every old one.
28
EMBERLINE
Ismoothed my hand down Dante’s hollow chest, furious that I could count every rib. “I told you we would get you out,” I told him, then raised my brow. “Seriously, I don’t know why you doubt me when you know I’m always right.”
He huffed out a quiet laugh, the first sound he’d made since his brother left.
The house felt safe. Thick stone walls muffled the city outside. The shutters were drawn on every window. Wards hummed faintly in the seams of the block like a low, steady breath. After the brutality of the Fossa, this place was a refuge.
