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Fucking. Bullshit.
It would be another Giovani.
Lucia unfurled her grip from Gabby, heading for the door. Just before she left, she dug her nails into my arm and whispered, “If you so desperately want to be without me, granddaughter, then perhaps I’ll grant you your wish.” She dropped my arm and left.
When enough minutes had passed that I was certain she was gone, I sat back down with Gabby. “Gabby, what the hell happened?”
“Levi’s advanced in the Family.” Her red-rimmed eyes were trained forward at nothing. “He’s, uh…” She sniffed, swallowing. “He’s—he’s working directly with the Beast to find the mole in precinct 72. He’s in the position Rhys used to have.”
A hushed quiet fell, dead and ugly. There were no words I could use to comfort her because there was no comfort to be had. Levi was working directly with Anteros to find him. There would be no happy ending. The last man in Levi’s position had died.
Gabby was crying and the friend in me said to leave her alone. She’d already dealt with a lot—first Levi then Hurricane Lucia—but Lucia had just reminded me the reason I’d come for Gabby. They told these lies about our lives and expected us to swallow them like cold medicine.
“Gabby, will you tell me the story of your mother?” I hedged.
“Levi said something might be going down here this week,” she mumbled. “He fed the Beast a story about The Catacombs. They don’t know it’s Lucia’s club and I think if it goes well Lucia will let us be together.” She was deflecting but it almost worked. The conversation I’d overheard in the pantry made sense now: they were planning something for Anteros, and whatever it was, it wasn’t good. I swallowed, possible outcomes working in my mind like a train going off the rails.
Gabby hiccupped and, with a breath, I refocused and placed my hand on her knee. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” She spun away from me and put her head on her pillow. The sun was falling, painting her mussed locks like beams of individual light.
“Mom tempted Alessio and Emilio Pavoni,” she said, voice muffled by the pillow. “They killed each other over her. As recompense, Mom was killed and her newborn child was named Emilio Alessio in remembrance.” I furrowed my brow. None of it made sense. How could Gabby be alive if her mother was killed right after Emilio was born?
“How does that work?”
“What?” She raised her head, looking over her shoulder at me.
“Emilio is how many years older than you? How could you be alive if she was killed when Emilio was a newborn?”
“I—” She stuttered then slammed her mouth shut. Warm brown eyes twitched left and right, working the problem in her head, then her face went flat and she slowly stood from the bed.
“Gabby?” I pressed, voice light.
“Just stop poking into things, Frankie! This has nothing to do with my life. I am happy now. I’m finally happy.” She wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Just let history lie!” Before I could respond she ran from the room, slamming the door behind her so hard that the pictures on the wall rattled.
Gabby wasn’t angry with me, she’d just been force-fed so many lies that truth tasted bitter. Still, her tear-stained face was fresh in my mind, and I hesitated to warn Anteros. I waited until the sun slowly dipped behind the skyscrapers before taking my phone out again.
The Catacombs is a trap.
I hovered over send. If I told Anteros anything, it would be cataclysmic for Levi. For Gabby. Her life had been nothing but pain from birth, thrown around as a pawn for everyone else’s chess match. I’d had a few months of it and I was going insane. That had been her entire life.
With a frustrated groan, I slammed my head back against the mattress. I wasn’t going to send the text that day, but a sharp, barbed thorn poked my heart, telling me I was only postponing the inevitable. Gabby and I couldn’t both have our happily ever afters. Eventually I would have to choose.
It was almost a week before anything happened and I’d all but forgotten what Gabby had said about The Catacombs. Lucia had been all over me, having me run errands with her, veiled threats looming if I didn’t comply. Her errands consisted of driving to faceless buildings and making me sit in the car for hours while she completed whatever dirty deed she had for the day. So I was momentarily distracted by her and her pointless tasks.
When I went down to the club that day, the place was totally empty. Instead of being alarmed as I should have been, I was relieved. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a box of the cookies I’d had with Lucia. They might have been a symbol of everything I would never have, but they were delicious.
Without darkness, it wasn’t so magical. The lies were stark on the mirrors, smudges visible in the light. I walked by the door to the dungeon and paused, cookie in hand. There was no one guarding it. Worry crept up my spine, but I still didn’t leave, afraid this was another one of Lucia’s tests, afraid if I took the bait, I’d be sent back down to the basement.
I felt like a fucking dog, so I went to a section of the club hidden by mirrors and pulled out my rebellion: the phone.
I miss you.
The black letters blared on the blue screen, but I couldn’t send them. Throughout the week, there’d still been no word from Anteros. I’d gone a month without seeing him, but once we’d met again it was like pulling apart atoms. I wanted to be strong, but he was fire and I was iron. My strength didn’t matter; I would always bend to his command.
I sent the text.
No sooner had I shown my cards, than I heard a loud bang followed by a huge rumbling beneath my feet. The dangling crystals and quicksilver mirrors rattled around me,
tinkling like wind chimes. I stilled, wondering what the fuck had just happened. It was possibly construction outside, but my gut said otherwise, and seconds later it was confirmed when soldiers came rushing from all directions.
