Leo frowns. “Rumors aren’t enough to count on. You know that, Miko. The Murrays are still top of the Irish chain. And they’ve already betrayed us once.”
I lean back against the wall, crossing my arms. “If their alliance cracks, though… if the Murrays start losing ground, the restwillfollow.”
Raf nods. “That’s what I’m hoping for. But for now, all we can do is keep our finger on the pulse.”
It’s the same frustration we’ve been hitting for weeks. Raf’s been chasing diplomacy. I’ve been working the pits, fighting, bleeding, building respect and reminding the Irish that we’re still here—still fighting. But the Irish are stubborn bastards. No one wants to be first to jump ship from a sinking alliance.
“We keep watching,” Raf says finally. “And waiting. Sooner or later, that alliance will falter. And when it does—we’ll be ready.”
I nod. I believe him.
Still, part of me itches for something more concrete than rumors and handshakes. We’ve been patient long enough.
When I leave my brothers and return to the party, it’s in full swing—music, laughter, the scent of roasted meat and wine. Evi’s no longer where I left her, and for a moment, I scan the room, my heart quickening, despite the fact that she shouldn’t be in danger. We’ve posted more than enough men to guard the house’s perimeter to ensure the ceremony went off without a hitch. But still, my sense of unease doesn’t settle until my eyes land on her once more.
I spot her near the back of the room, standing with her parents.
At first, I think they’re just talking. Then I see their faces.
Her father’s mouth is tight, his words appearing to come out in clipped bursts. Her mother’s eyes dart nervously around the room. And Evi—she’s trying to stay composed, but I know hertoo well by now. Her fingers tremble where they twine in front of her. Her eyes shine, the way they do when she’s fighting back tears. And her slender shoulders have a distinct curve as she curls in on herself.
Something cold settles in my gut.
I move toward them, cutting through the crowd, and people step aside without hesitation as soon as their eyes find my face.
“Everything alright here?” I demand as I stop beside my wife, physically demonstrating our solidarity as a unit—even if it’s her parents we’re up against.
Evi startles a little, her head snapping toward me. Her parents fall silent instantly.
Her father clears his throat, offering a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “We were just saying our goodbyes, Sandro. It’s been a long night.”
I glance between them, not buying it for a second. “That so?”
Her mother nods quickly. “You’ve both done a wonderful job. Truly. The house looks almost as beautiful as it did before the destruction.”
I don’t miss the subtle slight in that wordalmost, like Evi’s best efforts have somehow fallen short. It makes my hands twitch with the desire to throw her parents out of the party on their asses. But I doubt that’s what Evi would want. After the trouble she must have gone to in order to find her parents such a meaningful loyalty gift for Raf, I’m confident their image matters to her—for whatever reason.
“We should be going before it gets too late,” Maria says, her tone brittle.
Evi doesn’t look at me. She just murmurs, “Good night, Mama. Papa.”
They lean in to kiss her cheeks, and for a second, her father squeezes her hand, murmuring something I can’t quite catch. Whatever it is, it makes her flinch.
As they walk away, I watch them disappear into the crowd, then turn back to Evi. She’s pale. Her hands twist together, in that signature sign of nerves as her breath comes unevenly.
“Evi.” I lower my voice, stepping closer. “What was that about?”
She shakes her head quickly. “Nothing. Just… family things.”
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
Her eyes dart toward the exit, then back to me, wide and shimmering. “Please, Sandro. Not here.”
That cold, uneasy feeling in my chest deepens.
I reach for her hand. “Did they say something to you?”
She tries to smile, but it wavers. “I’ll tell you later. I promise.”
