The grounds are empty, but I can feel eyes on me. Whoever left these roses is watching, waiting to see my reaction.
I pick up the bouquet carefully, searching for a card or note.
There’s nothing.
Just twelve perfect black roses, their petals soft as velvet, their thorns sharp enough to draw blood.
Adrian Morello.
It has to be.
He’s the only one bold enough to desecrate my sister’s grave, to use her memory as a weapon against me.
The attack at the docks, the threatening note about Sophia, and now this.
He’s declaring war, and he’s making it personal.
I pull out my phone and call Marco. He answers on the first ring. “Boss?”
“Double the guards at the mansion. Triple them. No one gets in or out without my explicit approval.”
“What happened?”
“Adrian Morello just made another move.” I stare at the black roses, rage building in my chest. “And he’s going to regret it.”
I end the call and look back at Nicole’s grave one last time. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I failed you then, and I’m sorry for what I’m about to do now. But I can’t let him threaten Sophia. I can’t lose someone else I…”
I can’t finish the sentence, can’t admit what Sophia is becoming to me.
I turn and walk toward my car, the black roses clutched in my fist.
Their thorns bite into my palm, drawing blood, but I don’t loosen my grip.
The pain is grounding, focusing.
Adrian wants war?
He’ll get war.
But this time, I’m not just fighting for revenge.
I’m fighting to protect the woman who’s somehow become more important to me than vengeance itself.
11
SOPHIA
The burner phone feels like a live grenade in my trembling hands as I hide in the master bedroom bathroom, the shower running to mask any sound.
I’ve been staring at Melinda’s number for ten minutes, my thumb hovering over the call button.
Just do it. She deserves to know you’re alive.
I press dial before I can change my mind.
It rings once. Twice. Three times.
“Hello?” Melinda’s voice is cautious, unfamiliar with the number.
