Collin stiffens, his head tilting. “Why?” His voice is detached, analytical. “This calculated risk has only one outcome.”
He’s, my brother. I have to make him understand this. “I love her,” I say. “She’s my light in this darkness. Every second we’re apart feels like I’m being ripped into pieces.”
His head tilts again. “That makes no sense. This ends with you both dead.”
“Maybe.” My voice doesn’t waver. “But I’m still going.” I hold his gaze. “You’ve always seen in black and white. To me, Col, she’s all the colors. Loving Aria isn’t a calculation. It’s fire in my veins I can’t extinguish–and I don’t want to.”
Collin says nothing. Just watches me, trying to make sense of my choice.“Alright. I think I understand,” his fingers gripping my phone in his hand. “She’s like music only you can hear.”
“Yeah, Col, it’s like that.”
He nods once. “Fine, new plan. We find her before dawn. So, you don’t die, brother. Let’s go.”
Those words ignite something in me. I stand, jaw tight, my helplessness evaporating. Cyan, the weak fifteen-year-old boy, is long dead. I am Cyan MacBrady. The Púca. The demon horse of Boston. Whoever stands between me and my woman will bleed. I hope the bastard can swim, cause there’s a fucking bloodbath coming for him.
***
Ethan’s information leads us to a quiet street lined with brownstones and classic apartment buildings. Jake uses facial recognition to ID Olivia–the ghost–as Anikina Raisa Valentinovna, a Russian mafia asset hiding in plain sight. This ordinary building is her sanctuary. Now it’s her coffin.
With my back pressed to the cool brick wall, I scan the empty, quiet street. A knot twists in my gut. Is she still inside? Will she finally be the one to give me what I need? Footsteps echo near the alley. Johnny appears, flanking the building with a couple of our men. Behind him, the super, still in pajama pants, trembles like a leaf. Gun drawn, I step forward and aim it at the man’s head.
“P-please,” he stammers. “I-I’m just the super, I don’t know what this is about! I swear I was sleeping when he burst in… I’ll do anything Just don’t shoot!”
“I’m Cyan MacBrady.” His face pales with recognition.
“You know who I am?”
He nods quickly and stutters. “Y-yes, sir.”
“Good. Then you know what happens if you lie to me.” I hold up Anikina’s photo. “You’re taking us to her. You’ll open the door, and you’ll make this easy.” He nods, lips trembling. I turn to the others. “Spread out. She doesn’t leave this building.” We take the stairs fast and quiet.
The building is dead asleep. On her floor, I mouth to the super. “Open it.”
His hands shake as he unlocks the door. I shove him back toward our men and go in first, gun up. The lights are on; ornate Russian nesting dolls line a shelf. No sign of her in the living room. One look at Collin as he and Gab peel toward the kitchen. Thomas and I head for the bedroom.
“C, I found her!” Collin yells. I pivot and sprint into the kitchen. She’s face down on the tile, arms and legs splayed in a congealed pool of blood. One clean bullet to the back of the head.
“We can’t catch a single motherfucking break,” Thomas growls as he steps in behind me. I stare at the body. This woman was a Russian assassin.How the hell did someone get the jump on her?
“Spread out,” I order. “See if they left anything that points to Lorenzo.”
“C. You need to see this… now.” Jake’s voice cuts through the apartment from the living room.
We rush into the living room. He’s already moving, sweeping a handheld scanner across the walls, furniture, and the ceiling. The device chirps. He grabs one of the ornate nesting dolls and crushes it in his bare hands. A micro-camera drops into his palm. “Military-grade,” he says flatly. “She had the whole place wired.”
He flips open his secured laptop, fingers already flying. No wasted motion. No hesitation. “I’ve got the signal,” he adds, tone cool. “Give me a second.”
He intercepts the feed, tearing through encrypted folders like paper. I pace behind him, a caged animal. Every second stretches. Jake leans in closer to the screen. “She routed it through a Russian server,” he mutters. “Cute.” His fingers blur again. I can almost hear the clock ticking down as he breaks into the feed. “Got it. I’m in. I can’t believe this,” Jake mutters. “Look.” The feed flickers to life.
“Holy shit,” Gab breathes as he stares at the image on the screen.
“It’s Lucilla,” Jake says. The name hits like a gunshot.What the hell?I lean closer to the screen.
“Motherfucker,” Thomas mutters. Lucilla walks into the apartment with a sultry grin, pulls Anikina in, and kisses her. There’s no audio, but her body language is clear. When they pull apart, Lucilla says something to Anikina. The women move to the kitchen, and Anikina turns to the fridge. Lucilla pulls out a silenced gun and shoots her in the back of the head. It’s calm, clean, and far from the Lucilla we all know. The feed freezes on Lucilla’s smirk. Cold and confident, my blood boils.
I turn, gun already up, aimed straight at Thomas. “Did you fucking know?”
“C, what? No. I swear to you, I didn’t know.”
