“Shut up, Killian.”
“Then, what can we do?” I ask Maeve, ignoring the reaper. “There has to be a way out.”
Tiredly, she rubs the bridge of her nose. “Whatever it is, it has to be big. Something that would hurt Bruno, cripple him so a war seems too unlikely to win.”
“Could kill him,” Killian offers. “He’s a dog that needs to be put down.”
“People have said the same about you.”
He smiles. “Touché, Princess.”
“Take out his store houses.” Bruno kept most of their money in the storehouses whereas De Luca used off shore accounts and Maeve usedThe Wharfand the manor. “The first trial is set to start and we don’t have a goal. Take out his store houses.”
Killian raises an eyebrow. “Bruno has fifteen fronts. You’re suggesting we send the three of you out to destroy as many as possible? And what, the one who destroys the most, who causes the most financial damage, wins?”
Cursing under my breath, I nod. “It’s a lot but it’ll destroy him. His money will be essentially gone. He won’t be able to finance a war. File this under innovation.”
Each trial has to correspond to one of the virtues.It could work.
“If we hit him early enough,” Killian agrees slowly, processing. “We’ll have to move up the trials. The faster we hit him, the better chance we’ll have of stopping a war.”
Maeve bangs her fist onto her desk. “Get it done, write up the rules of engagement.” She gives Killian an insufferable look. “Let Lex know. He has businesses in those areas. He could experience loss.”
He winks. “The Capo won’t be happy about this. I can’t wait to see his face.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Will it be enough?” I brace against the chair, staring at Maeve. She sits back, sighing.
“We’ll see. We just have to be ready.”
Fuck. I hate that I might have started an unintentional war, but I sure as Hell don’t give a shit that I hurt Roman. Or reminded him that Collins is mine.
I just have to pray it’s enough.
“Wait,” she calls and I look back, already at the door. “You’re on guard duty. For Collins.”
She didn’t have to command me. I planned on never letting Collins out of my sight.
“After the meeting we just had,” I say snidely, “he’d be stupid to try something again.”
Her face turns pensive. “Don’t underestimate him. This is just the beginning.”
25
COLLINS
Sneaking down into the kitchen, I stop as my older sister turns, a cup of freshly brewed coffee cradled to her chest.
This is the mostnormalI’ve seen her. Dressed in an oversized band shirt and black sweats, her dark hair is twisted into a knot on her head. Our green eyes clash, hers sunken with bags underneath, as she scans my button-down blue striped pajamas.
Blowing on to the black mug, she regards me, silently.
I swallow. This is the woman I saw nights ago cut a man’s neck without a second thought. We haven’t talked since then—which isn’t unusual. But it’s surreal to put the two halves of who she is together. Much like me, she keeps those sides separate.
“You’re up early,” I comment, moving to the cupboard next to her. My favorite green tea and a few other flavors are always kept in stock.
She makes a muffled noise as she sips. “I haven’t been to bed yet.”
