My hands tremble in my lap, fingers clenched tight to hide it. “Did you…have anything to do with it?”
He tilts his head, like he’s savoring the moment. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Yes.”
Silence stretches, heavy and suffocating. Then he leans back, satisfied, like he’s already won. “I didn’t lay a hand on him. I didn’t have to. But I knew you wouldn’t stay away if something happened. And I was right.”
The words slam into me. “You let him walk into danger, just to bring me back here?”
“He was never meant to lead,” my father says, the warmthgone now, voice sharp as a blade. “He was weak. Sentimental. Loyal to you instead of the family. That kind of weakness puts a target on all of us. You were always the stronger one.”
I can’t breathe. Can’t think. “You let your own son die?”
His eyes are flat, bored, already moving past the subject. “I didn’t kill him, Zara. I simply stopped protecting him.”
The SUV lurches forward, tires hissing against wet pavement. My father straightens his cuffs, like this is nothing more than a business meeting.
“You were always going to come home eventually,” he says softly, almost pleased. “I just shortened the wait.”
My chest caves. My blood roars. And for the first time since I left Chicago, the truth burns clear in my veins. I never escaped. I was only living on borrowed time.
It’s beenthirty-seven hours since I watched her disappear behind the glass doors of that subpar hotel. Thirty-seven hours without a word, a sighting, a single goddamn update. Not from her, and not from Caesar—the man I assigned to watch her the second I let her out of my car.
I don’t let things fall through the cracks. Not in my club, not in my crew, and especially not when it comes to the woman who walked back into my life like she hadn’t left a crater in her wake. I’ve built an empire by knowing where every piece sits on the board. By keeping eyes on the things that matter. And she matters—more than I want her to, more than I’ll admit to anyone but myself. So when noon hits and I still haven’t heard a damn word, the quiet stretches too long, and my patience wears thin enough to cut glass.
Caesar doesn’t pick up his phone. My calls go unanswered, my messages ignored. So I stop calling. I stop waiting. It doesn’t take long to locate him. A contact in Eastside security feeds me an address, and now I stand in a shitty apartment building with paper-thin walls and an odor of stale beer and forgotten ambition.
I take the stairs two at a time and kick the door in without so much as a warning.
The place is exactly what I expected. Dim, stained, half-lived in. He’s on the couch, slouched low, the amber neck of a bottle halfway to his mouth. He startles when the door splinters open,but it’s too late to pretend he hasn’t been dodging me. His shirt’s wrinkled and unbuttoned at the collar, sweat already gathering at his temples, like his body knows what’s coming before his brain catches up.
I don’t speak. Two of my men move in behind me, efficient and wordless. They haul him up by the arms, dragging him toward the door while the bottle crashes to the floor and rolls under the coffee table. He doesn’t fight. Doesn’t even lift his hands to protest. Just stares at me like a man already carving out his own eulogy in his head.
We take him to the warehouse near Union Stockyards. The room I have in mind is soundproof, designed for situations like this. By the time they shove him into the chair, I’m already waiting with my arms folded and my jaw tight. A single bulb buzzes above us, harsh and flickering, revealing the sweat now soaking through Caesar’s shirt. He looks up at me, lip trembling slightly, eyes wide. No words. No excuses. Just the sound of his breathing, shallow and fast.
“Boss,” he croaks, wrists zip-tied behind the metal backrest. “I—I can explain.”
“I’m sure you can,” I say calmly. “But let’s make it interesting anyway.”
He jerks as one of my men steps forward and delivers a clean, punishing blow to the ribs. Bone cracks. Caesar chokes on a breath.
“I gave you one job,” I say evenly. “One.Follow the girl. Don’t be seen. Watch. Report.”
“I did!” he wheezes, coughing. “I did, Enzo, I swear—I followed her to the hospital. She went inside. But shenever came out.I waited for hours—hours—and nothing. It was like she vanished.”
I nod, then gesture.
A second punch. This time, to the gut. He dry heaves.
“You’re telling me,” I say quietly, stepping closer, “that she walked into a hospital in broad daylight, and then disappearedinto thin fucking air? And instead of alerting me the second something went sideways, you what? Went on a bender?”
His mouth opens. Nothing comes out but a hoarse sound somewhere between a sob and an excuse.
I crouch beside him, voice cold. “I expected more from you. And you know I don’t tolerate incompetence in my crew, Caesar. If something goes wrong, you tell me. You don’t disappear. You don’t hide.”
“I panicked,” he whispers. “She wasgone.I didn’t know what to do.”
“Youtell me.That’s what you do.” I stand again and pace, heart pounding. “You think I’d rather hear silence? You think I’m just going to sit on my ass while she has time to disappear again?”
