Page 137 of Tragic Empire

“No, you’re coming home with us.”

Yordan gapes, feet hitting the dry, black beach sand.

“We are?”

Apollo opens his mouth, only to be silenced.

“How dare you?” Rayna demands storming up to us with wild eyes and a sneer on her lips. “He’s just a boy, he has no business killing people! You’ve just given him a death sentence.”

“Tell your sister to pack her things,” Apollo instructs Yordan, flicking his gaze between the Todorov siblings. “We’re staying in the west building tonight, I’ll make sure you have a room there. We leave on the jet tomorrow morning, nine sharp.”

“What are you talking about?” Rayna rears back in shock and outrage. “We aren’t going anywhere with you, we don’t even know you.”

Apollo blinks at her tone, surprised anyone is bold enough to speak to him in such a way. “I wasn’t asking for your input. If you want to be free of Abramo’s wrath, you’ll come with us.”

“So, what? You can give me a price for that freedom that I could never dream of repaying? Fat chance! I amnottrading one jailer for another.”

“I’m sure you’ll find I don’t have much taste for holding hostages.”

“There will be no payment,” I inform her, attempting a lighter tone than my blunt older brother. “Morettis take care of women, no questions asked, no compensation required. You want to protect your brother, don’t you? You’ll be safe with our family.”

She shrinks in on herself, like she’s recognizing that she may have overreacted. She shouldn’t be embarrassed or ashamed, there’s no right way to react to Apollo inserting himself in your life, especially in a way that ends up with a dead body.

“Nine,” Apollo repeats the time, pulling off his soaked suit jacket.

“We’ll be ready,” Yordan assures us, grabbing his sister’s hand to calm her. “Thank you.”

Nodding, I make a move to depart. “Anyone bothers you, you come to us.”

Yordan agrees, and as I turn to walk back up the beach, my wife is running toward me. Bare feet, blue dress swaying behind her, and towels in hand, she almost slams right into me.

“Are you okay?” Ana fusses, wrapping a towel around my wet tux. “Did you guys just kill someone? What happened?”

Chuckling at her worrisome expression, I swoop in to give her a hard kiss. Ana grunts, pushing me back.

“Cassio,” she complains. “Seriously, what just happened?”

“Pretty sure Apollo just made a couple more Morettis.”

THE END