He found the man responsible for his family’s deaths.
And he’s going to kill him and set off a war.
That’s why he gave me his black book.
The ache sharpens into a blade, twisting into my chest.
Elias really doesn’t think he’ll survive.
And the black book…it’s his way of protecting me after he’s gone.
My eyes snap up, and Tristan nods. “Your Berishas rose to power quickly. I suspect these deaths have something to do with it.”
“Do you know where the Berishas are?” I haven’t heard from them in ages. No press releases or PR projects. No dinners or galas.
Tristan leans forward, his voice low. “I’m not stupid. I have a feeling Edon Berisha will end up floating face down in Lake Michigan very soon. I won’t lose any sleep over that, but I want to know why you’re asking.”
At my hesitation, he adds, “Lana, I can’t help you if you don’t give me all the facts. Flying in blind will get us—or Elias—killed.”
My pulse quickens as I hold his gaze, searching for tells—a nose twitch, a clenched jaw—any sign he’ll betray us.
The Berishas—not to mention The Association—are powerful in the city. What if this is all a trap? What if Special Agent Tristan Clarke is using me to unravel Elias’s plans?
But what options do I have? I can’t ask my brothers for help without risking them. I’m not a black ops specialist or anyone remotely familiar with this world.
There’s only one move I can make.
“The Berishas murdered his family,” I whisper, digging my nails into my palms.
Please let my gut feeling be right.
Understanding dawns in Tristan’s eyes.
“The Lestes,” he murmurs. “I see.”
He flips his phone, knocking it on the table a few times, then straightens, apparently deciding.
“Edon Berisha is scheduled for gallbladder surgery at Chicago Memorial tomorrow at ten a.m.”
I gasp, and he nods, clearly coming to the same conclusion.
“Elias Kent will make a move then,” he says. “That’s what I’d do.”
“Can you provide backup?”
Tristan frowns, his eyes contemplative. “Like you guessed before, I’m doing this off the books. The Association’s too powerful. I’ve bentthe rules for informants in the past, but never this far. If the director finds out, I’m finished.”
A vein pulses in his temple. “I’ll try my best, but no guarantees. It won’t be easy to get into the hospital’s restricted areas, and the surgical floor is definitely one of them.”
He sips his drink and nearly spits out the contents. He levels a glare at Scarlett, who’s busy wiping the counters.
“If I flash my badge…someone in The Association’s pocket may see it. Rumors will swirl about an FBI agent investigating something.”
My palms sweat. That’ll draw more attention to Elias. To whatever he’s doing. It might put a target on his back.
Unless…
“What if I can get you in?”
