“This isn’t just about Gideon,” he says.
My breath catches.
“What do you mean?” Trey asks, his tone calm.
“We have been keeping an eye out for him, same as Sera, but when he hadn’t appeared, we thought it meant that he was off the grid in a compound or something, or even abroad, but no…We got a tip. He was not using private security,” he continues. “He’s using the Orlova network.”
The name means nothing to me.
“What does this mean for Gideon, for us?”
“It means we know who’s protecting him, the matriarch, Galina Orlova.”
“Okay…”
“So why is she putting her neck out for Gideon? She a follower or something?”
“No, she’s Russian Orthodox…which means…”
“She’s using Sera, me, to get to your family?”
Chace nods. Slow.
“My father has been making moves. She might be throwing Gideon in our face to open talks…or…”
“Or?”
“Figuring that part out…” Chace says with a sigh, he eases back in his seat, his hand ruffles his hair.
“Hey.” Trey holds his hand up in a fist, toward Chace. Chace looks at it for a moment, considering. “He tried and failed to drop me bro, and I am way more fucking annoying than your pretty ass.”
Chace snorts despite himself. “Besides,” Trey continues, his tone shifting, “without you, Sera wouldn’t have been found and I’d be dead.” My chest tightens. Trey’s gaze hardens. “This sits with that greasy, cult-leading piece of shit.” He pauses, taking a breath. “The real question is…” his voice drops. “What the fuck are we doing next?”
Chace exhales slowly, his fingers tapping a quiet, deliberate rhythm against his thigh, something instinctive, like a drummer marking time. “We don’t move loud,” he says at last, “Not yet.” Trey’s head tilts just slightly, “You want to wait?”
“I want to understand how she’s playing this,” Chace corrects, his voice lowering. “If Galina wanted Seraphina dead, she had ample opportunities. Which means…”
“She wants something.” I murmur. Chace nods once.
“Everything in our world is a transaction. Power, territory, influence.” His gaze flicks toward Trey. “And right now we have something she wants.” Trey’s fingers tighten around mine.
“What?” Chace doesn’t answer immediately, and that hesitation alone is enough to tell me I won’t like what comes next.
“You,” he says finally. I feel the shift ripple through Trey, like a storm restrained through sheer will.
“That. Is. Not. Fucking. Happening.” His voice is low, dangerous. Chace lets out a quiet breath.
“You think I’d let it?”
“Then explain it fucking better.” Trey snaps. Leaning forward, Chace drops his voice lower, pulling us into the gravity of what he’s about to say.
“Gideon is a figurehead—a useful one. He has influence over people. Followers, money, reach. But he’s unstable.” A brief pause lingers before he continues. “You on the other hand…” His eyes move between us, intent and assessing. “You’re becoming something else entirely.” Trey’s jaw tightens.
“Don’t.”
“Someone who walked out of death,” Chace says anyway. “A man who millions of people already watch, already talk about.” He flicks his eyes to me. “Add Seraphina to the equation. Faith. Obsession. Devotion.” A cold sensation slips through me, settling deep.
“They’re building a narrative around us,” I whisper.
