Page 92 of Lucian

“Yeah, I get that,” Lucian replied.

“No offence, but one woman isn’t worth taking down an entire criminal enterprise for. At least not for them. They have three dozen more to replace her. Smart men, even if they are criminals, know when they’ve been bested and when to step back. I taught you that lesson myself, son.”

Lucian agreed, but he was still racing to catch up. “So, this means …”

No, he couldn’t even finish the thought.

Jordyn stood from the couch and walked across the room to pick up the file. “Dead?”

Antony nodded. “Yes.”

“How?” she asked.

“Initial reports say it looked like a drug overdose. Heroin, to be specific. However, the body was moved under the bridge after death. That certainly wouldn’t be uncommon for people who don’t want to be caught with drugs because of needing to call an emergency service for someone. However, it wasn’t the only suspicious thing.”

“What else?” Jordyn demanded.

Lucian wanted to tell her to stop and ask her to give herself a moment to breathe and consider what all this meant, but he couldn’t. He was just as frozen as Jordyn seemed to be, stuck in a time that didn’t feel real or right.

When Antony didn’t answer straightaway, Jordyn picked up the file and opened it. Lucian watched as her eyes scanned the report, wetness gathering along her lower lashes the further down she read.

Then, she flipped to the next thing in the file.

It wasn’t a report. It was a picture.

Will Vetta dead on an autopsy table. A sheet covered him from the chest down. The obvious signs of a drug overdose were evident in the yellowed whites of his eyes, and the dried, bubbled fluid around his mouth.

“They found it in his mouth?” Jordyn asked.

“Yes,” Antony confirmed.

“Found what?” Lucian had no idea what they were talking about.

“His patch, the one that signified his rank. It had been ripped off his vest, along with the club patch, and was bunched up and forced into his mouth and halfway down his throat. He might have died of an overdose, but the act afterwards was intentional and a very clear message,” Antony explained, keeping his exterior calm. “That is why I said it’s over between us and The Sons of Hell.”

“He’s … dead. Just like that,” Jordyn whispered. “Gone.”

Lucian didn’t get the chance to say anything or comfort Jordyn, if that’s what she needed, because in the next second, she was flying from the office. He stared at the empty, opened doorway for what felt like an eternity, unsure of what to do.

“Her mother died of a heroin overdose. She didn’t need to see that picture.”

“Jordyn picked it up herself, Lucian. I didn’t tell her to.”

“But you could have warned her!”

“No,” Antony responded coldly. “She needs to see, to have proof. She’s safe. That was what she needed, Lucian. You gave her that. Now, give her a moment to let her mind catch up to the information.”

Lucian’s was only now starting to. “It wasn’t about her today. The shooter wasn’t making a point or trying to catch Jordyn.”

“No, son.”

It was about Lucian. Someone was trying to kill him.

Chapter Nineteen

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Jordyn waved her hand above her face as a reply to Lucian. Reclining back on the leather couch in the bedroom that once was his in the Marcello family home was the only way she felt like she could control the rushing waves of shock and nausea.