Viktor
? Momentsbefore Everleigh is taken. ?
My father, Gabriel, sits across from me in his oversized leather chair, the surface polished so meticulously it reflects off of the lamp light.
He wants everything perfect and his office is less a workspace and more a shrine, which fits him precisely.
I lean back in my own chair, arms lounging across the armrests, “So,” I start, “we’re really going through with all of this at the same time, huh? The whole loyalty test thing with the new guy.” I shake my head, “I mean, do you really think now is a good time to be doing that while I’m busy questioning the Armani’s? Everleigh would be better suited helping me withthat.”
His eyes never leave mine. “Surely you’re not implying disagreement.”
“Not necessarily, just more confused on why we couldn’t do this at two different times.”
He sits forward slightly, his posture growing stiff. “Tell me, how is it that your younger sister honors my rules more faithfully than you ever have?”
My brow arches, “Because she wants to earn your respect.”
His hands clasp in front of him on his desk. “And you don’t?”
A chuckle slips through my lips, “Would I be here if I didn’t?”
His jaw twitches. “You understand your role,” he says firmly, “Everleigh understands hers. And Dante is there to make sure nothing strays outside my expectations. If it does, he corrects it.”
“Sounds exciting. Should I bring popcorn?”
He huffs out an annoyed sigh as he leans back against the seat again. “Smettila.”
Stop it.
I angle myself forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Sure, I’ll go ahead and give up the sarcasm for now. But what exactly do you want me to do while Everleigh is busy terrorizing Finnic?”
He settles back, fingers steepled. “You’ll have your own assignment,” he replies coolly. “You’re to extract the youngest Armani from their home. Her father, weak and foolish enough to vanish with money that belongs to me, has forfeited his protection. She’ll remain in our custody until he’s forced out of hiding.”
I snort. “If he abandoned her, what leverage does she actually give us?”
He ignores what I say, as he always does and continues. “Armani did not leave her behind. He hid her poorly. That is not the same thing. He assumed we would think that she was with him when he left the city. He was wrong.”
I tilt my head, watching him. The light catches the faint scar along his knuckle, a relic from some lesson in the past that he’d taught with his hands. “So, she’s his bait.”
“He’ll surface on his own once he realizes she’s been taken.”
I exhale slowly through my nose. “And if he doesn’t?”
His gaze narrows, “You’ve returned to doubting me, I see.”
I laugh under my breath. “No,” I say, tilting my head, “I’m just trying to understand how much faith you’re placing in a man who already ran once.”
The faintest flicker of irritation passes over his face before it vanishes, “I have never been wrong about men like him.”
“That’s a bold legacy to protect,” I state. “Even gods miss a step now and then.”
His jaw tightens again. “Attento a come parli.”
Watch your mouth.
I recline back again. “You’re counting on fear to do the work for you. Fear’s unreliable and it generally makes people reckless.”
“And love makes them predictable,” he counters. “Which is why this will succeed.”
