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Aria tried to imagine it — highly specialized hackers undergoing the same kind of tactical training demanded of the Syndicate’s soldiers. It was yet another reminder that Primo had been outmatched from the beginning. The Syndicate’s operation was seamless and astute, all the big-picture strategy of a modern tech company combined with the ruthless violence required of anyone who was a member of organizedcrime.
Of course, now he had Anastos on his side, and while she didn’t imagine Anastos brought much to the table in terms of finesse, it appeared what he lacked in that department he made up for with violentdetermination.
Anastos and Malcolm — they were the engineers of the attack on thecyberlab.
She was sureofit.
It didn’t absolve Primo, but she didn’t believe for a minute he was stable enough to send a message to someone as powerful as Christophe backed by the even more powerfulSyndicate.
That kind of move had Malcolm’s fingerprints alloverit.
The front door of the apartment opened and closed, followed by the sound of murmured voices, heavy footsteps in the hall. A moment later, Christophe and Damian stepped intotheroom.
Aria stood, her hands shaking as she lookedatthem.
Their faces were drawn but determined. The last time she’d seen them, Damian’s face had been smudged with blood and soot, Christophe’s hair uncharacteristically disheveled. Now they looked clean and composed, like they’d just returned home from an average dayatwork.
Charlotte crossed the room to Christophe, kissing his cheek and taking off his jacket. “Sit,” she said. “I’ll pour you adrink.”
He followed her instructions without comment and Damian crossed the room to stand in front of Aria. He smoothed her hair, rubbed his thumb across hercheek.
“Are you sure you’re allright?”
She nodded. “Areyou?”
“Other than wanting to kill them all with my bare hands, I’m fine,”hesaid.
He lifted a hand to her hairline and she winced as his fingers brushed her skin. “You’ve got a bump,” he said. “I’m going to get you some aspirin and a change ofclothes.”
“Don’t leave.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, some of her residual panic from the days after her rescueresurfacing.
“I’m not leaving,” he said. “I had Cole bring your things from thehotel.”
She exhaled her relief and watched as he lefttheroom.
“I’m going to see about some food,” Charlotte said, rising fromthesofa.
Aria was left alone with Christophe and the strange feeling that it hadn’t been anaccident.
“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, looking at herhands.
He didn’t answer at first and she braced herself for his wrath. She deserved it. She deserved anything he chose to dish out. She’d put him at risk, had put his wife and his operationatrisk.
It took him a minute torespond.
“I like to think of myself as a careful man, but every mistake I’ve ever made can be attributed to family.” She looked up in surprise as he continued. His gaze was on the doorway, as if he could still see Charlotte disappearing into the hall. “I’d say some of them have been made for love, but the truth is, I’d make those a hundredtimesover.”
Aria drew in a breath. “The fact that Primo is my family is no excuse. I know what he is. I know his weaknesses better than he knows them himself. I should have known I couldn’ttrusthim.”
Christophe looked into the amber liquid in his glass, finished it in one swallow and set it on the coffee table. “I had a brother once,” he said. “He tried tokillme.”
Aria had trouble catching her breath to speak. “I’m… I’msorry.”
“He’s dead now.” He said the words simply, but Aria caught his pain before he covered it behind the expressionless facade she’d grown used to seeing onhisface.
“Was he… in the business?” Aria asked. She got the feeling Christophe didn’t open up often. She didn’t know why he was opening up to her, but she thought it might be because they had something incommon.
“He was the enemy,” Christophe said. “He made himself the enemy by threatening the woman I love, the people who mattertome.”
