I’m alone.
The silence rushes in, suffocating. My legs give out and I curl in on myself on the bed, sobs tearing free at last, raw and unstoppable.
They never wanted me back.
They just wanted the price tag I came with.
And now, they have it.
20
MATTEO
The Lark building cuts a clean line into the Brooklyn skyline, all glass and steel and money that never learned shame.
I watch it from across the street, hands loose at my sides, pulse steady in a way it only ever gets before violence. Giovanni stands next to me, coat open and hands eager for action. His men are scattered through the block like shadows pretending to be nothing at all.
“Thanks for lending me your men,” My voice is full of appreciation. “I won’t forget it.”
“The Pavlovs are a pain in my ass as well.” He shrugs. “If I get to kill Georg under your roof instead of mine, that keeps my streets clean. Wins all around.”
That drags a smirk out of me. “Then you’ll owe me one after this.”
“Now, don’t get greedy. Let’s get your girl out first. Then we can talk about bankrupting you to pay me back.”
I shake my head. Giovanni can be a real asshole, but fuck it, there’s no one else I’d rather have by my side right now.
Except Rose.
I’m already mapping the entrances. Service access. Emergency exits. The roof. Old habits slot into place, cold and efficient. We could take the building in under ten minutes if we had to. Less, if we stopped caring about collateral.
Then the first car pulls up.
Black sedan. Chauffeur-driven. Doors open, and people start stepping out dressed in silk and tailored wool, jewels flashing under the afternoon sun. Another car follows. Then another.
Guests, I realize.
My jaw tightens.
Giovanni follows my line of sight. “That’s a lot of traffic for a weekday.”
Understanding clicks into place with a sharp, vicious clarity.
“They’re not hiding her,” I say. “They’re parading her.”
“Marrying her off already?” Giovanni’s eyes widen. “That’s bold. Though if it was up to me, I’d do it today, too.”
The word tastes like poison.
Today.
I feel it settle in my bones, rage and certainty locking together. The Larks would never waste an opportunity for spectacle.
A daughter returned. An alliance sealed. Applause.
I grit my teeth. “Not on my fucking watch.”
Rose is mine. My woman. My heart. No one else gets to lay a hand on her.
