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It’s eerie.
The calm before a deadly storm.
Eoghan’s grip on my hand relaxes, and I shake it to get his attention.
“What do you think that means? That Nico didn’t just call up a don here to take us out when we landed?”
Eoghan exhales, his eyes shooting to the ceiling. “Could be as simple as he’s got too much pride to make someone do his dirty work. We killed his brother, he might want to kill us himself.”
“The bullets they shot into Taryn’s car weren’t a way of saying hello.”
“That wasn’t Nico Scava, though. And it was too soon after what happened. Those were Lazaro’s men,” Eoghan says. “I’m sure Nico showed up at the club to see his brother’s dead body, checked the security footage, then set his plan into motion.”
“Do you think someone erased Lazaro trying to rape me?” I squeak, shivering.
“Fuck, I didn’t think of that.” Eoghan scrubs a hand down the back of his neck. “Nico Scava wouldn’t start a war based on a clip of us killing his brother and accept there’s no other footage. We were already in the room.”
“Good point, counselor.” I give a weak smile.
Eoghan looks down. “I’m going to catch hell for this.”
I close my eyes. “For bringing a murderer home?”
“No. Given who we are.”
“For what then?”
“I should have met with Lazaro Scava sooner.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I had other things on my mind, sparkles.” He pins my hair back and makes a twist while kissing my lips. “Plus, your case against him intrigued me. I had to make sure your evidence was solid to put them away.”
“No one puts away the mafia as a whole. We make little dents here and there.”
“Do you love me?” he asks quietly, changing the subject.
The blunt question throws me, but given the hot mess we’re in, I have to own up to how I feel because it’s a matter of life and death.
“I do.” It’s the truth.
“Say it.”
“I love you.”
“Good girl.” He takes me under his arm. “I was technically waiting for the end of my trip to pay Lazaro a visit. He had to know I was in town. Word traveled back to the Scavas what happened in Seattle. The fact that Nico or Lazaro didn’t show up at my villa meant they didn’t give a fuck we killed a paid Russian mercenary. They didn’t want any of us dead, they wanted my sister, Ana. They wanted the money her father would have paid for her. When they saw that window closed, they shrugged it off. That’s my theory.”
“And even if my brother’s case against them falls apart,” I add. “I tipped the scales of hatred by killing Lazaro.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
Eoghan
Divona is surrounded.
By guards.
Fuck, I’m in trouble.
