Reminding myself I’d trained for this moment.
For Marcello sending in his assassins to finish us off. To decide there would be no marriage, no justice, no alliance. Just a silent assassination in the middle of the night to be swept under the Dynasty’s proverbial rug.
And why not? He’d finished off my father much the same way.
I blew my fear out in an exhale, wiped the sweat from my throat, closed the doors of the practice room, and slipped into the dark hallway. Muffled voices floated from the front, the staccato tone rising and falling like the tide.
Luca.
And someone else.
I sped across the floor, avoiding the spots where the floor groaned. From the top of the grand staircase, I scanned the entry hall below—black-and-white marble laid out like a chessboard, columns framing the double doors that faced the canal.
My brother blocked those wide-open doors with his rangy body coiled tight, jaw clenched.
No sign of my uncle. Or the guards.
Opposite Luca, lounging on our front portico like an indolent alley cat, was the very last person I thought I’d see tonight, and my heart jolted like I’d been hit by a lightning strike.
I had to hand it to Marcello, when he wanted a job done right, he sent his best.
Nico Draconi’s dark coat was still damp from tonight’s fog, mixed with droplets of blood from his earlier carnage. There was nothing casual about his stance, no matter how relaxed he tried to act. His weight was perfectly centered against the doorjamb, capable, empty hands ready for violence.
And I knew how fast he could move.
A threat that was far too close to my brother, radiating menace like decent people radiated joy.
Logically, there was only one reason for Nico to be here tonight. Marcello had changed his mind and decided a dead DiRavello was better than having one as a daughter-in-law.
Not-so-logically, I’d just watched Nico save three humans and wipe their memories so they didn’t have any trauma when they woke up tomorrow. Didn’t quite seem like the bride-murdering type, but maybe I was being overly optimistic.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out,” Luca snapped, biting off each word as he took a step forward. “You don’t cross our thresholds without invitation. I don’t give a fuck who you say you are.”
Now chest to chest with my twin, Nico’s slow grin was infuriating on a multitude of levels. “I’m already inside, aren’t I? That means someoneinvitedme,ragazzo.”
Gods, if I’d expected a confession, there it was. Marcello sent his best assassin, and Luca was going to get himself killed, unless I stopped this.
I started down the stairs, letting my heels land hard, both of them turning.
“I’m righthere,” I called, hoping to distract the impending murder of my brother in our front hall. Nico’s eyes snapped to me like twin daggers, a ghost of a smile on his face that gave me the shivers.
Luca’s eyes widened. “Ember, go back upstairs. I’m handling this.”
“Nonsense,” I replied, skimming down the steps as fast as I could without looking desperate. “We have a guest, Luca. We should welcome him inside.”
Nico’s gaze swept over me, quick but mercilessly thorough, the cold appraisal of a killer.
Up close, his eyes were a surprising shade of pale brown, lingering a fraction too long on my flushed face, my sweaty neck, my damp hair, plastered to my forehead. Suddenly, I was too aware of the knife hidden up my sleeve.
“I was just going through some old boxes before the wedding.” I grinned, open and happy and edged with nerves, the picture of an anxious bride. Or what I imagined a nervous bride might feel like on the eve of her wedding night. Trying very hardnotto look like a bride plotting to murder everyone in the groom’s party.
“Getting my things sorted out before I… well, you know.” I shrugged helplessly, not feeling the need to elaborate. After all, he’d been in that room when I was sold off like a prized broodmare.
“Signorina DiRavello,” his deep voice was velvet draped over steel, his bow just short of mocking. “I came to introduce myself.”
“No, you were trespassing,” Luca snapped, planting his hand in the middle of Nico’s obscenely wide chest. “Step back,soldier,and get the fuck out of our house.”
“Are you going to make me, pup?” Draconi countered lazily, bloodlust sparking in those pale eyes. “I’m here on command of Don Marcello, but if you’d like, I can go tell him you weren’t up for visitors.”
