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Taking a seat behind the desk, Anteros studied Little O. The man had been unraveling since his twin’s death. Levi hadn’t been working for them when Frankie had been his slave, so it was impossible for him to be the leak.
“We just met him,” Crazy A said, echoing Anteros’s thoughts. “He couldn’t have helped the slave escape.”
“Plus Levi saved the Boss from that goddamn car bomb,” Pretty Boy said. “And made sure his ass was covered when we discovered it was a trap today. He seems pretty fucking intent on keeping the Boss alive. Why the fuck would he do that if he wanted him dead? Also his leg was oozing when we left him. It was fucking disgusting. I don’t want that shit in here, on my nice, new leather couch.” Pretty Boy took a seat and rubbed the quilted leather for emphasis.
“Well his man bun sucks ass.” Little O flung a frustrated arm in the air, pacing the same line back and forth on the floor.
“Besides, we had Nikolai double check the maps,” Pretty Boy continued.
“Then maybe Nikolai is the fucking leak!” Little O exploded, face red. Anteros bent forward, putting together two fingers caked with blood. After double-checking the blueprints, Nikolai had been absent the past week, dealing with the Emilio problem.
Little O had said it in frustration, but…Anteros leaned back, resting the back of his skull in his palms. They weren’t getting any closer to figuring out who the leak was, and there weren’t many other options.
Suddenly the door opened and as if on cue, Nikolai entered. There was something in his hand that Anteros couldn’t see through Little O’s pacing, but it didn’t take long to find out what it was. Nikolai came right to him and threw it on his desk.
Emilio’s head.
This was good news. Anteros was closer to razing the Pavoni Family and all who stood in his way. After the close call at The Catacombs, however, the realities of what that meant for Frankie were like a knife in his side. As Anteros stared at the slack-jawed, glassy-eyed face of Emilio, he couldn’t help but see Frankie instead.
“You were saying?” Pretty Boy asked, indicating that Nikolai’s loyalty was without question. Anteros lifted his gaze from the severed head to see Little O huff and run a meaty hand through his hair.
“Well I still don’t like Levi,” he snapped. “And if this blond fucker didn’t do it, we still don’t have an answer to who is the fucking leak.” A fight broke out as Little O turned his ire to Nikolai and Pretty Boy tried to mediate. As Nikolai gestured with his hands, a glint on his wrist caught the light. He wore a shiny new watch, much too expensive for someone like Nikolai to afford.
Anteros studied the boy’s reddening face as he defended himself against Little O. After what happened on New Year’s, he was sure Nikolai wasn’t the leak. Stranger things had happened, though—like a Pavoni Princess.
Eight
I am so fucked.
“Are you injured?” someone asked, maybe a soldier, I wasn’t sure—didn’t care. Wetness seeped into every corner of my being. It’s water, my brain said rationally. A pipe had burst above me during the fight and was flooding the basement. My heart, however, said it was blood, said I was leaking. I couldn’t move, hollowed out, sucked clean…empty.
Saremo insieme, il mio cuore.
I didn’t know what that meant, didn’t speak Italian, but I felt it. I felt the words to the very essence of me. We would be together again.
He said we would meet, but when? When would that be? Since he’d left, I’d been frozen. He’d gone and taken me with him. Hours had passed since the fight, and that was already too long. I couldn’t wait another week again to see him.
“She’s in shock,” some other man said. “Pick her up.” They sounded so far away. How the fuck did I go back to my room after what just happened? Arms reached for me, trying to curl around my body and lift me up, and I screamed. I thrashed. I clawed at his face until I drew blood.
“Fuck!” he yelled and dropped me. I fell into the inch of water that had accumulated on the floor with a splash. Didn’t they know? They didn’t get to touch me. I wasn’t for them; I was for him.
“You deal with her,” said the man who’d dropped me.
“I don’t want to deal with that,” the other man said. “Just leave her.”
“We can’t just leave her, she’s the princess.”
“Go get Lucia.” Their voices faded and I knew I should be nervous, but I couldn’t find it in me. I’d lied to him again. Don’t apologize for something you have no fault in. I couldn’t keep lying. Even if Anteros decided to leave me, the next time I saw him I was going to come clean.
“Granddaughter.” I looked up at the voice. Icy, even, confident—Lucia. God, I really didn’t want to go back with her. She was insidious. She would never tell me anything about my real parents. A couple months ago I’d thought Anteros was the epitome of evil, that he and his Wolves were demons. I was so wrong. She was the most dangerous thing I’d ever come across.
Slowly Lucia bent down until she was eye to eye with me. I stared into her crystal eyes, briefly wondering if that was what people saw when they looked at me—frozen, like glacial ice. Then she slapped me across the face. I gasped, clasped my tingling, stinging cheek.
“Get up,” she said.
“Did you leave me on purpose?” I whispered my question, afraid of
the answer.
