“Tell Declan to hold the meeting. I gotta do some coding, Tatiana has made contact again. I’ll head to the office here.”
He nods. “No problem.”
I sink back into my seat. I’m too fucking tired to be hacking encrypted messages. But this is the next step toward the end.
We want the Preacher.
And however we fucking get him… It’s in here.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Lily
By the time Bella drops me home—or well, back to Drago’s—it’s already dark. Letting myself in with my key, the house feels oddly quiet.
“Hello?” I call out.
“In here!” my dad calls from the living room.
I kick off my sneakers, dump my bag on the kitchen island, and follow his voice. He’s hunched over a laptop, white numbers and letters streaming down the screen.
“You working?” I ask, dropping onto the couch beside him.
“Yeah, Drago’s got me on some shit to decode,” he says without looking up. “I haven’t had to do anything like this in a while.”
I lean over his shoulder, squinting at the screen. “It’s in Russian?” I ask.
I can still speak the language—kind of—but writing it? Not a chance.
He chuckles. “Yeah. It is. You wanna help? Don’t tell me you lost that?”
I chew on my lip. “I can’t decode anything, Dad,” I reply, in Russian.
He leans back with a grin. “Nice. Get Drago to help you if you need a refresher.”
My cheeks heat instantly at his name. “Dad… Why Drago?” I ask carefully. “What made you save him and keep him?”
I already know part of the answer. Drago is clever. Dangerous. The kind of man who commands a room without trying. But he also listens—really listens—like you matter.
“He was just a kid,” my dad says, voice quieter now. “He already had a shit life, Lily. I couldn’t just let him die. I killed his parents in front of him, and he thanked me.”
My throat tightens.
“At that moment,” he continues, “I knew he had that evil streak in him that I had.”
My heart sinks. “Drago isn’t evil,” I say, sharper than I mean to.
My dad’s eyes narrow slightly. “He’d never be to you. He knows better. But trust me, he is when he has to be.”
I rub at my neck, the beginnings of a tension headache forming. “He knows better?” I ask.
He clears his throat and turns back to the keyboard. “Yeah. I just mean you’re my daughter. He knows never to hurt you. He’s here to protect you and keep you safe. Nothing more, nothing less.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Right…”
Nothing more. The words cut deeper than I expect.
“What would you do if he hurt me?” I ask lightly, picking at my nails.
