Maybe he thinks I won’t go through with it.“Cyan,” I look him in the eyes. “You know a wolf, when trapped, will chew off its own limb to survive.” His eyes snap to mine, wide.
“No, Aria. You don’t know what kind of damage you’d be risking. We don’t even know if it’ll help. The door is locked.”
“There’s no guarantee your brothers will get here in time, either.”
“I’ll think of something else.”
“This is the something else,” I insist. “Lorenzo wants you dead. He’s obsessed. He wants to end you, and if we don’t do something, he will.” I think back to Lorenzo; the man has a twisted and relentless fixation on Cyan. I glance at his injured leg. The fabric clinging blood-soaked to his leg. If I don’t, Cyan could...
“It’s just a scratch,” he mutters about his bullet wound.
“Cyan, that’s not a scratch.” I brace myself. Steeling every nerve. My eyes close.Three... two...
“Wait,” he calls out.
“No, Cyan. We don’t have other options. You could bleed out.”
He growls under his breath. “If you’re going to do this, you must wait for the right moment.”
“When then?”
“When the door is open.”
I nod. “Fine. While we wait, update me. How’s Johnny? Evie?”
“Evie’s with Rosa. She’s... shaken but safe. Johnny’s probably on his way here. A bullet in the shoulder isn’t enough to keep him down.”
“Good.” The fear is choking me, but I force myself to ask. “What about Gracie?”
“Aye, she’s alive. Our girl is strong.” Relief floods me thankful the worst didn’t happen. “The docs say her condition is critical, but she’s awake, it’s thanks to her I found out about Ethan.” His voice hardens. “He won’t ever come near you again. I’ll make sure of it.” He tells me how Ethan gave him Olivia’s real identity. Anikina, a Russian asset who’s dead now by Lucilla’s hand. My stomach churns.Wasn’t she, her lover?
“I was going to tell you about Ethan; I never told him anything. I swear.”
“I know,” Cyan says softly. “Ethan confirmed it. But I didn’t need his word.” The keypad chirps, the door opens, and everything inside me stills as Lorenzo steps in. Lucilla trails behind him, smiling like a viper.
“Cyan, my boy,” Lorenzo drawls with the arrogance of a man who thinks he’s already won. “Thanks for coming.”
Cyan’s sneer is instant, razor-sharp. “Cowardly bastard. I was starting to think Lucilla ran this dump. Sending your little skirt to fetch me instead of showing your face?”
Lorenzo’s laughs, sounding deranged. “My boy, are you insane? You think your words mean anything? You’re the one trapped like a rat in a cage.” He moves to the table, unfurling a black knife roll with reverence, like a chef laying out cutlery. Steel glints in the dim light—serrated, hooked, all looking deadly sharp. “I’m going to keep you alive just long enough to watch while I fuck your woman. Deep and slow.”
“Touch her,” Cyan growls, his voice lethal, “and I’ll put your prick through a grinder and feed the scraps to the rats.”
“I control this game, boy... and you have none,” Lorenzo barks, then chuckles to himself. “I must say you have a big imagination, just like your bitch of a mother, Melania. Too bad she too lacked loyalty.”
Cyan’s posture stiffens. “Don’t you dare speak of my Mam.”
Lorenzo turns to him and sneers. “She was mine. Earned by blood. But your precious Mam humiliated me. Disappeared the day of our wedding. She was promised to me.”
I gasp. “What?” Was Cyan aware of this? My mind reels. This is why. Lorenzo slaughtered Cyan’s family because his mother refused him.
“You think you can break me with lies?” Cyan snarls.
“Lies, guess Calum never told you!” Lorenzo explodes. “Your mother and I had an arranged engagement. Don Marzio Senatore, her father–your grandfather, gave her to me. Our union was meant to keep the bloodline pure. She was supposed to bear my heir. Instead, what does the bitch do? Runs off with that Irish mutt you call father.” Every word drops like a stone into the stillness of the room.
“It wasn’t until an old acquaintance of mine saw her shopping in Boston at the local supermarket.” His lip curls. “Apparently, she thought she could live as if all were well. After she, turned me into a joke.” He leans in, his face inches from Cyan’s. “You think she was a martyr? No, she was a traitor, a coward, and you,” Lorenzo points. “You’re nothing but the bastardization of that betrayal!”
With a snarl, Cyan’s voice cuts through the tension “You want to paint her as a coward? You’ve been hiding like a rat, afraid of her bastard’s shadow.”
