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VESPER

I killed him.

I killed my uncle.

“No, no, no!” I rush to Mario's slumped form in my father's leather chair, his blood soaking into the expensive upholstery. My hands grip his shoulders, shaking him violently as if I could rattle the truth from his lifeless body. “Where is he? Where's Luca? Tell me where the Collector is, you bastard!”

Mario's head falls back, eyes vacant, mouth frozen in a half-smile that mocks me even in death.

“Where is my brother?” I scream. My fists pound against his chest. “You don't get to die! Not until you tell me!”

Strong arms suddenly encircle my waist pulling me away from Mario's corpse. I fight against them, clawing, kicking.

“He's gone, Vesper." Oz's voice cuts through my hysteria, steady but strained. “He's dead. He can't tell us anything now."

“No!" I twist in his grip, tears streaming down my face. "He has to! He's the only one who knows where Luca is!"

My legs give out beneath me, and Oz lowers us both to the floor, holding me against his chest as I shatter completely. The sobs wrack my body, violent and uncontrolled. My fingers clutch at Oz's shirt, twisting the fabric as if it could somehow yank me away from this gruesome reality.

“What have I done?" I choke out between gasps. “I've lost him. I've lost my brother. It’s all my fault."

Oz's arms tighten around me, his heart beating steadily against my back. “We'll find him, Vesper. This isn't the only way."

But it feels like the end. Mario's blood soaks into my father's imported rug, the sharp, coppery scent saturating the air. My uncle lies dead by my hand, and with him went our most direct link to Luca. Our only link.

I barely register the movement behind us, the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Zaire," Oz's voice vibrates through his chest against my ear. “Take her. Get her out of here."

My fingers tighten reflexively in his shirt. I can't leave. Not yet. Not with Mario's corpse still warm, not with the answers I need turning cold with his body.

“I'll take her," Talon offers.

I feel Oz hesitate, his arms still wrapped protectively around me. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he loosens his grip.

“Just until we clean this up," Oz says, his words meant for me as much as Talon.

Talon replaces Oz, strong and steady as he helps me to my feet. My legs tremble beneath me, threatening to give out with each step toward the door. I can't look away from Mario's body.

“Take her home, Talon," Zaire orders. “Now."

I try to pull away from Talon's grip. “No. I can't leave. There might be something in his office, files, his phone?—"

“There’s nothing you need to see," Zaire says, his voice firm, allowing no space for argument. His features soften just slightly as he turns toward me. “We’ll handle this, Vesper. We’ll find whatever information he had.”

“But I?—"

“This isn’t a debate.” The finality in his voice cuts through me like a blade. “Talon, go.”

Talon’s hand on my lower back urges me toward the exit, and I’m too exhausted to fight anymore. My body moves on autopilot, one foot in front of the other.

The warm afternoon air slaps against my skin as we step outside. The sun above is offensive in its brilliance, the world continuing to spin while mine has crashed to a halt. I glance down at myself and freeze.

Mario’s blood is everywhere—dark stains blooming across my dress, splattered on my hands. The evidence of what I’ve done screams in color. My breath comes in short, painful gasps. My uncle’s blood. It’severywhere.

“Hey, hey, look at me.”

I can’t look up. I can’tbreathe.