The building groans as another section collapses, sending a shower of sparks into the air like demonic fireflies. I breathe it in—the heat, the destruction, the acrid smell of burning plastic and metal. It smells like revenge. It smells like justice.
My fingers twitch for my lighter, but I resist the urge. There’s no time to play. It’s after four in the morning, and Raven’s been missing for over six hours.
Long enough for me to locate three North Coast Effects properties and reduce all of them to ash. Not long enough for the fear clawing at my insides to subside.
“Where are you, Little Thief?” I whisper to the flames, as if they might answer. As if they might reveal her location if I just ask nicely enough.
But fire doesn’t work that way. Fire takes, destroys, and cleanses. And I am the fucking fire tonight.
I step closer to the heat, close enough that my skin prickles with warning. My suit is ruined—soot-stained and singed at the cuffs where I got too close while setting the charges. I don’t care. I’d burn every stitch of clothing I own if it meant finding her faster.
“I’m coming for you,” I promise to the night air, to wherever she might be.
As the hours drift by, dawn chases the darkness away, and gives way for early morning sun. I feel numb as time blurs and the hours crawl past while I watch the destruction.
I know Remus is the reason I’m alone here. Without him, the place would be swarming with police and firefighters. But it’s just me.
A support beam gives way with a thunderous crack, and the front façade of the building crumbles in slow motion. Glass shatters, metal twists, concrete buckles. It’s fucking beautiful. A symphony of destruction conducted by my own hands.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, an unwelcome intrusion into this moment of perfect chaos. I consider ignoring it, but it could be about Raven. Every call could be the one that leads me to her.
“What?” I snarl into the receiver, not bothering to check the caller ID.
“Matteo.” Rafe’s voice, tight with tension. “You need to get back to the estate. Now.”
I laugh, the sound harsh and humorless. “I’m a little busy.”
“I can see that. It’s all over the fucking police scanner. But you need to come back,” he insists.
“No, what I need is to find Raven,” I snap, watching as the last wall of the building surrenders to the flames. “I need to find her, and I need to kill the motherfucker who took her.”
“And we’re trying to help you do that,” Rafe insists, his voice dropping lower. “Piper and Enzo found something. It’s about North Coast Effects. Something big.”
He hangs up before I can respond, leaving me staring at my phone with a mixture of rage and anticipation. In the distance, sirens wail, growing louder with each passing second. Red and blue lights flash at the end of the street, still far enough away that I have time to disappear.
Guess even Remus can only hold them off for so long. Or maybe he feels he’s given me enough time since it’s almost eight a.m.
I take one last look at my handiwork, committing the image to memory.
My car is parked two blocks over. I slide behind the wheel, not bothering to wipe my hands on my ruined suit. Let the evidence stay. Let anyone who touches this car know exactly what I’m capable of.
As I pull away from the curb, fire trucks scream past me, heading toward the inferno I’ve left behind.
My phone rings again—Remus this time. I send it to voicemail. I know what he’s going to say. That I’m being reckless and drawing too much attention. That burning down half of Cleveland might not be the most strategic approach. I respectfully disa-fucking-gree.
The highway stretches before me, as good as empty. I press the accelerator to the floor, watching the needle climb past one hundred. If Piper and Enzo have found something—anything—that might lead me to Raven, then nothing else matters.
Not the buildings I’ve burned. Not the trail of destruction I’ve left behind. Just her. Just finding her.
The Russo estate looms ahead like a fortress under siege. Two black SUVs flank the main gate, and I count at least six men patrolling the perimeter. I pull up to the gate, my engine still ticking from the drive, and roll down my window.
The guard takes one look at my face and immediately steps back, pressing the button to open the gate without a word. Smart man. I’m not in the mood for questions or protocols.
I park haphazardly, half on the gravel, half on the manicured lawn, and slam the door behind me. The sun feels obscene—too bright, too cheerful for the darkness roiling inside me.
My clothes reek of smoke and chemicals, the scent of my night’s work clinging to me like a second skin. The front door opens before I reach it. Remus stands there, phone to his ear, expression grim.
He gives me a once-over, taking in my appearance without comment, then steps aside to let me pass. Inside, the mansion hums with activity—men in suits moving with purpose, phones ringing in distant rooms, voices raised in urgent conversation.
