“You’re not kissing me back?” Dalia teased with a chuckle. “That’s new.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
I pressed her against the piano, the collision echoing discordantly as our lips met. She trailed her hand to my chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of my heartbeat.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” she murmured. “What’s wrong?”
I don’t know.
Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be, just as I had orchestrated it. It was all thanks to Dalia. If she hadn’t mentioned that new weapons export contract, I wouldn’t have delved deeper, uncovering the absence of any record of it.
And if I hadn’t ventured into the dark web to find information on Los Calaveras, hoping to appease Dalia’s nightmares one way or another, I wouldn’t have stumbled on a very poor pixelated video from fifteen years ago. It depicted them handling an AR96—an assault rifle with a carbon-fiber body and ergonomic grip. A discontinued weapon designed by Mercier’s industry.
The truth was glaring at me all along.
I removed her hands from my chest and kissed her knuckles. “Nothing.”
I’d conducted the most entrancing chess game of my life, but I didn’t want to end this one. Because the proof that could destroy Mercier’s empire could also destroy Dalia’s life and her beliefs.
I knew what really happened the day she lost her mother.
The target was never the president’s son.
Levi, clad in his all-black ensemble and sunglasses, which either made him look like an undertaker or my personal bodyguard, had been silent since we left Pantheon, his finger tapping anxiously on his knee. I intertwined my hand with his in the back seat of the taxi. My heart was heavy with the impending confrontation with my father, but for Levi, it had been four years since he’d been back to our small town.
The taxi passed in front of the once-exiled Delombre manor, and I tightened my grip on Levi’s hand. The facade had been repainted white, the name had been replaced, and children were running in the garden, which now had a pool. It was so alive as if all traces of Lucie and Levi had been removed.
I glanced at him, but he wasn’t even looking. His head was turned to the other side.
We crossed the sign indicating the entrance to our childhood town. As a child, everything had felt so big. Our little church felt to me like the biggest cathedral, and being allowed to walk into the town center with Grandma felt like the biggest adventure. But here, after seeing the vastness of Pantheon, it didn’t feel like home anymore. It felt like the past.
The taxi parked on the street a few meters away from my home. My heart quickened like a deadly countdown.
Levi pulled a hundred from his wallet to pay for the cab. “Call me if something happens.”
He wasn’t coming with me. I had to face my father alone first, and he preferred staying at a hotel nearby.
“I’ll see you later?”
He cupped my jaw and pulled me closer, our lips meeting in a kiss.God, I love the taste of him.
“Yes.” Levi’s gaze shifted to something behind me. A muscle clenched in his jaw. “You should go. Your father is watching you through the window.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Outside, my home appeared idyllic, with lush vegetation, a sienna-colored wall adorned with blue shutters, and long, vintage-style windows with grid-like patterns. However, a storm was brewing inside. My father, dressed in a blue suit, cast a shadow over this paradise as he flung aside the checkered yellow curtains of the kitchen.
I stepped out of the car and made my way down the street. Dad had retreated from the window, his stern figure replaced by Grandma emerging from the mansion with her arms outstretched. Despite the winter chill, her garden still bloomed.
“You’re okay, my flower?” Grandma wrapped me in a tight hug before whispering, “If your father starts again, I can pretend to have a heart attack or something.”
I managed a weak smile before turning my attention to my father. He stood at the threshold, his expression inscrutable, arms folded, rooted to the spot.
“Dalia,” he uttered.
“Hi, Dad,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. The door slammed shut behind me, making me flinch. “I missed you.”
In silence, we made our way to the living room. Dad settled into his customary armchair among the ancient dictionary collections, his small table adorned with a coaster and his whiskey glass. My spot on the leather couch remained untouched, devoid of any creases.
