Page 16 of Lone Wolf (Red Rivals)

CHAPTER 16

Sunny

I follow Ariadne into the foyer and up the stairs to the war room. Even though we’re walking at a normal pace, it feels like we’re marching to an execution. Part of me wants to reach out and grab her hand, but we’re in the open now and anyone could see. I want to keep whatever is happening between us just for us, for now, and besides, we have business to deal with first. So I keep my hands to myself and try to ignore the lingering warmth on my skin where her fingers touched me just minutes ago.

“Let me do the talking,” Ariadne says without turning around, her voice low and flat. “Just follow my lead.”

“I really can’t let you take the fall for this,” I reply, matching my stride to hers as we climb the stairs.

She stops abruptly on the landing, turning to face me with those ice-blue eyes that somehow seem warmer now. “Your mission is to find your sister. My mission is to survive. Let me do what I do best.”

Before I can argue again, she continues toward the heavy double doors marked with the brass Cerberus. The three-headed dog of Greek mythology—guardian of the Underworld, and a fitting watcher over the entrance to the Styx Syndicate’s inner sanctum.

The doors swing open at Ariadne’s push, and I steel myself. Inside, Hadria sits at the head of the long table, flanked by Lyssa and Scarlett on either side. But…no one else is present—not Vanessa or Enzo or any of the recruits, not the other senior members who usually attend briefings. Just these three, waiting for us with expressions that make my stomach drop to my feet.

Hadria’s face is a perfect blank, her silvery eyes cold and unreadable. Lyssa looks like she’s been carved from stone, her usual intensity dialed up to eleven. And Scarlett—Scarlett’s watching us with an expression that mixes disappointment with something I can’t quite read. Pity, maybe. Or resignation.

None of this bodes well.

“Sit,” Hadria commands, gesturing to the two chairs positioned directly next to Scarlett and Lyssa.

We comply, separating to walk up the long table on either side, the heavy wooden chairs scraping against the floor as we take our seats. I try not to fidget, try to project a calm I don’t feel. Opposite me, Ariadne sits perfectly still, her back straight, hands folded on the table in front of her. I wonder if she’s as nervous as I am.

Doesn’t seem like it.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Hadria asks, her voice neutral.

“I assume it’s about what happened in the warehouse,” Ariadne answers before I can open my mouth.

Hadria nods. “Explain what happened.”

Ariadne doesn’t hesitate. “I lost control,” she says simply. “When we found the women in that truck, something in me…snapped. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until Santiago pulled me off a very dead body.”

I stare at her profile, caught between admiration for her convincing delivery and frustration that she’s still protecting me. I open my mouth to interject, but Hadria raises a hand, silencing me.

“Continue,” she says to Ariadne.

“There’s not much more to tell. I should have maintained better control. It won’t happen again.”

Hadria exchanges a glance with Scarlett, who leans forward, her eyes hard as she focuses on Ariadne. “Dr. Khatri tells me you’ve been skipping your therapy sessions,” Scarlett says.

“I’ve been busy.”

“And you’ve been training Santiago privately, without authorization,” Lyssa adds, her gaze flicking briefly to me. “Breaking protocol.”

I can’t stay silent any longer. “That was my fault,” I interject. “I asked her to train me. She was just?—”

“Quiet, Santiago,” Hadria cuts me off. “We’ll get to you in a moment.”

I clamp my mouth shut, my leg bouncing nervously under the table. This is all wrong. They’re building a case against Ariadne when I’m the one who fucked up. I have to say something, have to make them understand.

“How many more incidents like this should we expect, Ariadne?” Hadria asks, her tone almost conversational. “How many more times will your programming override your judgment?”

“It won’t happen again,” Ariadne repeats.

“You seem very certain of that,” Scarlett says. “Yet you’ve been avoiding the very therapy designed to help you overcome that programming.”

“And cultivating a training relationship outside official channels,” Lyssa adds. “Creating attachments we can’t monitor or control. And you know why we need to control your training, Sarah.”

The way she said “relationship” and “attachments” makes me wonder if they know about what just happened in my room. But that’s impossible—we left right after, and no one saw us. Still, I feel heat creeping up my neck.

“I’ve followed every other protocol,” Ariadne responds, a hint of tension finally showing in her voice. “I’ve proven my loyalty to the Syndicate at every turn.”

“Yet you remain a danger to yourself and others,” Hadria states. It’s not a question, but a conclusion. “Your actions in the warehouse demonstrate that your conditioning runs deeper than we thought.”

I can’t take it anymore. “That’s not what happened!” The words burst out of me before I can stop them. “Ariadne didn’t lose control. I did.”

All eyes turn to me. Ariadne kicks my ankle under the table, a clear warning to shut up, but I ignore her.

“I’m the one who stabbed that Mancini guard,” I continue, my voice shaking slightly. “Over and over, long after he was dead. Ariadne pulled me off him, not the other way around. She’s covering for me.”

Hadria’s expression doesn’t change, but Lyssa raises an eyebrow. “And why, exactly, would she do that?”

“Because—” I hesitate, glancing at Ariadne, whose face has gone rigid. “Because I have a personal stake in this mission, and she knew I’d be in trouble if you found out.”

“A personal stake,” Hadria repeats. “Elaborate.”

I take a deep breath. This is it—my one chance to tell the truth, to clear Ariadne’s name, to explain why I lost control. Even if it means getting kicked out of the Syndicate, I can’t let her take the fall for my actions.

“My older sister, Marisol, was trafficked when I was sixteen,” I say, the words coming faster now. “My father sold her to a Chicago ring—and I think it was connected to the one we busted last night. I’ve been looking for her ever since. That’s why I joined the Syndicate. To find her.”

The three women exchange looks I can’t interpret. Ariadne sits motionless opposite me, her jaw tight.

“When we found those women in the warehouse,” I continue, “and none of them was my sister, I just…I lost it. I couldn’t stop.” My voice cracks, but I push on. “Ariadne pulled me off him. She took the blame to protect me, to keep me from getting kicked out before I could find Mari.”

Silence falls over the room. I look between the three senior members, trying to gauge their reactions. Hadria’s expression remains inscrutable. Lyssa’s brow is furrowed slightly, and Scarlett is watching me with what might be sympathy—or might be calculation.

“I understand if you want to kick me out,” I finish, my hands clenched into fists under the table. “But don’t punish Ariadne for something she didn’t do. She was just trying to help me.”

“That’s very noble of you, Santiago,” Hadria says finally. “Taking the blame at the eleventh hour.”

“It’s not a gesture,” I insist. “It’s the truth.”

“It’s a lie,” Ariadne counters firmly. “Santiago is merely trying to protect me, but the responsibility is mine.”

“Well,” Hadria says, leaning back in her chair, “we have a situation where both of you claim to be responsible. How interesting.”

Scarlett and Lyssa exchange glances, and I get the distinct impression they’re communicating something without words.

Ariadne straightens her spine, her expression hardening. “I am prepared to accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate.”

A hint of something—perhaps amusement—crosses Hadria’s face. “Yes, I’m sure you are. And I have decided on your punishment.” She pauses, and my stomach drops. “I think you’ll find it particularly difficult to bear.”

Ariadne’s face betrays nothing, but I see her knuckles whiten where her hands are clasped on the table.

“Group therapy,” Hadria announces. “Led by Dr. Khatri. And you’ll be joined by Scarlett...” She pauses, letting the moment stretch. “And the woman who calls herself Katy.”

My breath catches. Katy—the woman from Grandmother’s organization who’s been held in the secure wing since Lyssa and Scarlett brought her back from Vegas.

“Do you accept your punishment, Ariadne?” Hadria asks.

The silence that follows is deafening. I look at Ariadne, watching the tiny muscle jumping in her jaw, the tightening around her eyes. For a terrifying moment, I think she’s going to refuse.

Scarlett leans forward, her voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Listen, you’re still caught up in ideas of punishments and rewards. But that was Grandmother’s game. You know it’s not how the Syndicate operates.”

Ariadne’s eyes close briefly, a soft sigh escaping her. When she opens them again, there’s a resignation in her gaze. “I accept,” she says quietly.

Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived as Hadria turns her steely gaze in my direction.

“As for you, Santiago,” she says, “don’t think you’re getting off scot-free.”

I straighten, bracing myself. “I understand.”

“You will also be required to undertake personal therapy with Dr. Khatri,” Hadria continues. “However, you will remain on the team going forward—provided you can demonstrate that you will not be a danger to yourself or others. Do you accept these terms?”

For a moment, I’m too stunned to speak. They’re not kicking me out. They’re not even removing me from active duty. I nod, speechless, then find my voice. “Yes. Yes, of course I accept.” I hesitate, then add, “Did…did you hear anything at all about more trafficking victims? About…my sister?”

Something softens minutely in Hadria’s expression. “We’ll look into it. Johnny de Luca wants us to keep going, to dismantle the Mancini network here in Chicago completely—and the Syndicate has extensive resources, as you know. If she’s alive, we’ll find her.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, overwhelmed by the unexpected leniency.

“You’re both free to go,” Hadria says, rising from her chair, signaling the end of the meeting. “But please remember—the Syndicate is meant to be a community, not a place of rivalry or secrecy.”

I stand, legs a little shaky with relief, and see Ariadne doing the same across the table. But before we can turn to leave, she speaks up.

“If all of Grandmother’s protégés are supposed to have group therapy together,” Ariadne asks, a hint of her usual defiance returning, “why won’t Lyssa be attending?”

Lyssa’s face splits into a wolfish grin. “Why the hell would I need therapy?”

The tension in the room suddenly breaks, a surprised laugh escaping Scarlett. Even Hadria’s mouth twitches with what might almost be amusement.

“You’re dismissed,” she says.

As we turn to leave, I can’t help but think that the real reason Lyssa isn’t joining the therapy sessions is that she’s already accepted her demons—and besides, even Hadria couldn’t make the Wolf do something she doesn’t want to do.

We exit the war room in silence, the heavy doors closing behind us with a solid thud that feels both final and somehow like a beginning. Ariadne walks ahead of me, her back straight, and I hurry to catch up.

“What just happened in there?” I whisper once we’re far enough down the corridor.

Ariadne glances at me, something unreadable in her eyes. “They’re giving us both a second chance.” She pauses, pulls me in so that my forehead is pressed against hers and adds quietly, “Let’s not waste it.”

“We won’t,” I agree, fierce and strong, and I’m rewarded with a genuine smile from Ariadne…and a kiss.