But if I had to guess, it really was something to do with the Church family. Sylar had been out of reach for the most part. We did, however, keep our ears to the ground because if I got my hands on Everett Church, I’d kill him.
I didn’t push it with Sylar. If he wasn’t willing to tell us, then I assumed she wasn’t in terrible danger.
At least I prayed she wasn’t. The last thing I wanted to do was punish Sylar for fucking things up. He’d spent his entire life being punished, and I wanted to give him a break.
But so help me God…
I stared out my window in my office to the night. Klaus and Alessio were out looking for Rosalie and taking down Bratva wherever they could. It was a messy business.
Klaus insisted on doing his portion alone, which concerned me, but I also knew that he could handle himself. I also knew he hadn’t slept in nearly the entire week because he wouldn’t stop looking.
I was concerned for his mental well-being. I’d never seen him so devoted to something in the entire time I’d known him.
It was getting late, and I needed to sleep. I went upstairs and walked past Bianca’s room. I hesitated for only a moment before forcing myself to walk away. She was being punished. Alessandro had been gone all week, looking for Rosalie. If he truly cared for Bianca over Rosalie, he’d have been here instead of out on the streets.
I needed to rest. Tomorrow, I’d head back out and look more, and then I’d see Bianca. She would likely try to claw out my eyes.
Tired, I went to my room, showered, and pulled on a pair of pajama bottoms before crawling into bed. It wasn’t long before I was asleep.
It didn’t last long because I had the odd sensation that I was being watched.
This is it. Someone smart and brave enough finally got through the guards and was going to kill me.
“Just kill me,” I called out softly, my voice strong.
A soft chuckle met my ears, and I froze.
I knew that laugh.
“Come, brother, why would I kill you?” Santino asked softly.
The Carpenter.
My brother, who ran away to escape this life. The true heir.
Evan’s father.
Kurt Evans.
I opened my eyes and stared at my brother sitting on the edge of my bed in the moonlight streaming into my window.
“Santino,” I whispered.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to sneak up on you. You’re getting rusty in your old age.”
I sat up, my heart beating hard.
Santino was a nightmare. One of the deadliest assassins to ever walk this earth.
And he’d made it unseen into my estate.
That spoke of his level of skill, even after all these years.
“If I’m so rusty, put your hammer through my skull and end it. I promise I will not fight,” I said, sitting up.
He smirked at me and got to his feet.
And he was definitely holding his hammer.
