With Cole and Maxim’s help, they had pieced together the boys’ steps.
Somewhere in Fort Worth, the three of them had boarded a plane under alternative identities and landed in Chicago undetected.
From there, they must have rented a car and driven the rest of the way.
They were spotted at a tattoo shop. Although no one could say what they were doing there.
Another piece to the puzzle that didn’t make sense.
From there they were rumored to have approached Callen, who immediately alerted the Triune, and called an emergency meeting in Rome.
After that, they lost track of them.
While Adria didn’t know the exact time of the meeting, she knew that these types of summits didn’t take long.
Traitors were dealt with swiftly. There wasn’t a trial in the sense that they were innocent unless proven guilty.
And things were especially dangerous with Callen and Alessandro working together.
Helen was usually the voice of reason, but she was off the Triune.
“If you have any allies at the table, now’s the time to make your call,” Elena said.
Adria hesitated.
Allies was a strong word. But what choice did she have? Moving quickly her fingers typed out a message.
CHAPTER 66
ROME
Bryson knelt on the rough stone floor. Kaydon and Seth were bound and gagged on either side of him.
His father stood next to Alessandro and Sean Cahill.
The icy waters lay just in front of them.
Never once had Bryson considered he might die in the water.
The trial of ascension always threatened death, but Bryson’s self-imposed arrogance never considered failure. Now looking at the dark pool, death wasn’t just a possibility, it was an inevitability.
But for his final act, he would make sure Adria, Kaydon, and Seth were protected.
“Welcome, everyone. I’m deeply sorry for the circumstances that have brought us here,” Alessandro addressed the group.
Forced to kneel at the pool’s edge, Bryson couldn’t see the table.
Moving his gaze from the water, he brought his eyes to look at the symbols on the cavern walls and take in all the families that had come before them. So many symbols. Bryson had never considered the numbers before. Now that he had, the brokenness of the organization was written in plain sight. OnlyAlessandro’s Leprechaun sigil had stood the test of time. His symbol stood alone, as the single family that still sat at the table today. An original.
The only way to leave the table was to die. That meant every family, every name that lined this wall, save Alessandro Grasso, sat at the table, until another family came.
Creeping in the darkness, watching, waiting. Until the family let their guard down. Perhaps they felt comfortable even. And then.
Death.
These weren’t just former names and symbols.
These were massacres. Betrayals.
