ven

expression was a masterpiece of destroyed faith. I didn't need to break his fingers or peel

oser, the crystal glass of vintage Barolo cool against my palm. I didn't ask him who sent him or how he

e a velvet blade slicing through the quiet dampness. "She traded half her life for a nameless g

g his silver hair and dripping down his face like thick, arterial bloo

he could feel the chill of my breath. "Your loyalty is a m

es, not to attack me, but as if trying to escape his own skin. His will

fec

the harsh light and glanced at the sh

ing the cold stone floor, barely catching himself. He looked

m mockery to cold revelation. "She isn't dead. He f

, hollow look in 'Twelve's' eyes ignited with

en realizing it. "Your fate isn't mine to decide. It's hers. Go to New York. Find her. Protect her

by a single thread of hope, and bolted up the stone steps. The h

, my *Caporegime*, stepped forward. His jaw w

ghost loyal to 'Nine' walk free is a fatal mistake. She is the biggest threat

hed stone walls. I picked up the Barolo bottle and poured

finish burned pleasantly down my throat. "She is Silas's sharpest blade. The Syndicate's to

*, my expression hardenin

apart following his mistress's scent, desperate to prove his worth." I set the glass down on the wooden