Page 36

CHAPTER 36

SCARLET

I didn’t leave one organized crime family to join another. Nikolai Ivanov might bend some laws, but he’s not inherently evil.

When my hold on his wrists tightens, he turns. Confusion reigns in his gray eyes, but there’s lightning on the horizon. He’s feeling attacked, and he’s ready to fight. Semper paratus . Always ready.

Listen to them .

I silently plead with my eyes and my touch.

“You want me to work with these blokes?”

I nod and lick my lips. My mouth and throat are dry. He’s got to do this. But he’s not alone.

“I’ll help, too,” I whisper.

The muscles below his cheekbones flex, and his lips flatline. My grip on his wrists lowers to his hands, and I squeeze, holding his hands in mine, my thumbs grazing his knuckles.

His jaw clenches, but then he softens.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” Nick asks the room.

“Work your connections,” Leo answers.

“You heard me tell Dorian I’m out.”

“Yes, but you’ve still got your contacts. Mansueto, Droga, Pearson… They won’t alienate you. You have aligned business interests. Plug them for information. Besides, I’d bet they aren’t buying into this shift in direction. Best case, they can give you insights. Worst case, you fracture the syndicate further,” Leo says.

“Angel stays out of it,” Nick says. “She doesn’t need more enemies.”

“They won’t trust her anyway,” Leo says. “Best to keep your relationship with her on the down low.”

“Can I get a look at this intel you’re working off of?”

Nick avoids my gaze, but he lifts one of my hands and presses his lips to my fingers before releasing them and moving closer to the computer.

“He did it. The bounty has been rescinded,” Sophia announces.

“That was fast,” says Leo, or maybe it’s Jack. The two men sound similar to me. “Would you have really posted a bounty on the old man’s life?”

“To end the madness? Yes,” Nick says without an ounce of remorse.

My mobile rings through one of the bags. Nick’s eyes narrow accusingly. “You have your mobile on?”

I scramble for the bag, searching. “I thought I turned it off.”

“I thought you threw it out,” Nick grumbles.

The weight of my mistake settles heavily in my chest. One careless oversight could have led them right to us. After everything Nick and the others risked to help me, I'd nearly compromised our safety over a mobile.

By the time I locate the device in my backpack, the call has gone to voicemail. There’s a string of messages, all from Orlando.

Are you ok?

The news shows a terrorist attack near the Ivanov estate. Are you okay?

You’re scaring me. Respond. Pls.

The news says it was on the Ivanov property. Scarlet?

I show the screen to Nick, my hand slightly trembling. “I’m going to call him. Okay?” I need to make this right, starting with using proper security protocols.

“Should she call on her mobile or yours?” Nick asks. “She’s calling her cousin. Apparently, news of the explosion traveled to Italy.”

“BBC has been covering it. It’s everywhere,” Kairi confirms. “You should be fine in the van, but to be safe, use our lines.”

Sophia opens a drawer, pushes some buttons on an odd-looking mobile, and hands it to me. “Here you go. And you should be fine, but let me disable that mobile.”

I take the device Sophia hands me, give her mine, and head to the back of the long van. Nick catches my eye and gives a reassuring wink as I press the mobile to my ear. That small gesture helps ease some of my guilt. He understands that in the heat of the moment, even trained operatives can make mistakes. I’m as far away from the others as I can be. There are no windows back here, and I can’t see outside other than a distant view through the windshield up front, but we’re traveling at a quick clip.

Nick sits in the seat beside Sophia at the computer, and from here, it appears he’s in an intense conversation with the Americans.

Orlando doesn’t answer. It’s an unknown number, and I’ve no idea what area code shows for my number, or if it simply says unknown number.

I shoot him a message.

It’s me. Pick up.

This time, when it clicks and rings, he answers right away.

“Scarlet?” He’s mystified, understandably.

“Yes. I’m okay.”

“Oh, thank god. The blast…were you close by?”

“Closer than I’d wish. But I’m okay.”

“You’re not injured?”

“No. I’m good. How are you? I’ve been wanting to reach out, but I wasn’t sure you wanted me to.”

“Straight up, I didn’t. But, seeing the explosions…you know, there’s video of the blasts. Looks like a nuclear bomb went off.”

“It can’t have been that bad.” The ground shook sure, but nuclear?

“It didn’t mushroom, but it could’ve been a movie set. Lots of locals caught the explosion through the trees. It’s all over the news. I’m just…I immediately thought the worst, and…thank you for letting me know you’re all right.”

“How are things there?” I soften my voice, not because there are listening ears nearby, but because this has to be a difficult time for Orlando.

“I’m being sent away to boarding school. I leave this weekend.”

“Really?” It’s not unheard of for mafia kids to get shipped off to boarding school, but now he’s one of the men.

“Sixteen arrests last week. The rival mafia clans smell blood. They’ve been attacking locations under our protection. We’re spread too thin. I want to stay and fight, but Papa believes it’s only a matter of time before the Ombra come down, and…his priority is Titan Shipping. Willow was right. She always said that, and I told her she was wrong.”

Uncle Alessio built Titan Shipping from a small shipping company to a worldwide force. He served as a blood member of the Grigi, not out of desperation for funding but out of loyalty. Ironically, the fallout from the investigation may free his son of his misaligned allegiance.

“I’m relieved he’s prioritizing you. It’ll be good for you to get away from this.”

“You know, I think I understand why you did it.”

“Oh?”

“Forgiveness is hard.”

My mouth drops. “You think…” I can’t quite say the words.

“The irony is that if Papa had forced Willow into a contractual marriage, she would’ve forgiven all involved. Forgiveness is intrinsic in her nature. And it’s ironic because Papa saved her only for her to die.”

There’s no response to his warped reasoning.

“But between the two of you, I think I’m more like you, Scarlet. It’s truly hard to forgive.”

“You mean it’s hard to forgive me? You understand that the family is a criminal organization, right? They traffic drugs and murder people.”

“You’ll never understand. It’s Aunt Catarina’s fault. And maybe my parents. You and Willow spent too much time on your own, watching television and TikTok. You’ve been indoctrinated.”

“Who has been filling your head with this nonsense?”

“Let’s not argue. You want to know what it’s like these days? Papa only cares about protecting his sole heir.”

“That’s a good thing, Orlando.”

“He was arraigned, you know? The only reason he’s not sitting in a cell right now is because he’s got some of the best lawyers around. He still has to stand trial. And the case against him will be a tough one because of the evidence you supplied. It’s not too late, you know. If you refuse to testify, he can throw the case.”

I’m silent because what can I say? Orlando refuses to accept it, but his father ruined my life. And yes, with time, perhaps I can forgive Uncle Alessio. But forgiveness and absolution are not the same. He still must suffer for his sins, against me and against all the innocents his crimes have hurt. If forgiveness cleared one of all sins, there would be no hell.

He sighs as if my silence pains him. I glance up and meet Nick’s concerned gaze, his blue eyes alert and protective.

“I hope one day you’ll understand my position. It’s my hope you’ll go on to university, and when you take the helm of the business, whatever business that might be, that you do good.” I swallow down the emotion threatening to erupt. “That’s what Willow would want.”

Guilt swirls in the shadows, threatening me for the lie of omission. His sister is alive. That knowledge might be all he needs to change course, but I can’t risk her new life. If Orlando is going to find his way, he needs to do so on his own.

The screen on my phone lights, and I read the message.

Unknown number

Your death day is here.

“Orlando, did you just text me?”

I hold up the mobile for Nick to see. His eyes widen with alarm.

Nick grabs the phone from me and taps out a response.

Me

Who is this?

“I’m on the line with you. Why would I message you?” Irritation laces Orlando’s words through the handheld speakerphone.

Unknown number

Your friendly prophet.

Nick carries the mobile to the others.

“Orlando, I’m going to need to go.”

“Wish I could say?—”

A loud crash explodes in my ears.

My body lurches.

Gunshots ring out.

Pain shoots through my knees and hands.

A cupboard opens.

I scramble for the mobile on the ground.

The men grab guns.

Chambers click.

Crushed circles mar the windshield.

Fisher announces, “Don’t shoot. The glass is bulletproof. I’m going to back up and drive around this car.”

Up ahead, there’s a small van that’s pulled in front. Four men with guns stand in the back of it, shooting away at us.

“Clock what they’re carrying,” Fisher shouts from behind the wheel. “This baby’s fortified, but it’s not invincible. That first strike may’ve been a drone. We need cover.”