Page 16

A knock sounds at my door. “Isa? Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course,” I call to my dad.

The door creaks quietly open to reveal a haggard version of my father. My acceptance of the arranged marriage has been harder on him than anyone, I’d wager.

“I wanted to come say good night.” He sits on the side of the bed, hands twining together with obvious discomfort.

I lean forward from where I’ve been propped against the headboard and clasp his forearm. “Please, don’t worry about me, Daddy. I promise I’ll be fine.”

The sadness in his answering smile splinters my heart. “I’ll always worry about you, princess. That’s my job. I just wish the marriage was my only concern for you.”

“What do you mean?”

He frowns, dropping his gaze as though struggling with whether he wants to say something. “I suppose you should know so you can be aware of the dangers. A couple of days ago, Mazzi’s car was vandalized.”

“You think it means something?” We live in the city, after all. Sometimes cars get tagged with spray paint or have their tires stolen overnight. It happens.

“That’s the problem. We’re not sure.” His features grow more severe. “It could be a coincidence, or it could be a warning if someone is unhappy about the alliance.”

“Did any security cameras capture it happening?”

“Yes and no. They caught a glimpse of the man's back. Big guy in a nice coat—not some punk kid. They couldn’t see his face. Before he left, he knifed one of the tires.”

Dad looks at me, and I can tell this means more to him than it does me.

“And?” I ask, confused.

“It was a curved blade—a karambit. That’s the type of knife the Reaper reportedly uses.”

My lips form a silent oh as understanding dawns. “You think the Reaper might have targeted Mazzi? Why? Why would he care about the wedding?”

“We have no idea. His beef has been with the Russians, so far. We’ve been hoping to avoid getting sucked into their battle, but maybe the alliance threatens him in some way. I’m not sure, but you’ll need to be extra careful, Isa.”

“I will, Daddy.” I nod solemnly. “Have you guys found any other information on him? Anything to help identify him?” Protecting myself against a threat would be a whole lot easier if I knew what that threat looked like.

He shakes his head. “The guy is a ghost. The only thing we’ve gathered from witnesses is that he has a gnarly scar across his throat.”

I shudder at the mental image. “Well, that’s something. There aren’t many people running around with scarred throats.”

Dad huffs. “Yeah, you’d think that would have made it easy to find the guy, but it hasn’t. He’s good at being invisible. But enough of that.” He waves his hand to swat away the doom and gloom. “Tomorrow my little girl gets married. I wish it were for love, but in the alternative, the best I can do is pray you’ll be happy.”

“It’s a good thing I decided long ago that happiness is a choice.” I infuse my smile with every ounce of joy and light that I can muster to reassure him.

It works well enough that Dad gives a nod and smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I don’t know what I did to deserve such an incredible daughter, but you are proof I’ve done at least one thing right.”

This time my smile is genuine. “You’re a good man, Daddy. I’m proud to be your daughter and to help you and the family.”

He drops a tender kiss on my forehead. “Good night, princess. Try to get some rest.”

“Love you, Daddy.”

“Love you more.”

Silence descends in his absence.

Its suffocating blanket has my ears ringing.

One minute passes.