“How did you find me?”
“You want the long story or the short?” She smiles.
A joke that doesn’t land, that’s all she has to offer. I’m in no mood to smile or laugh or pretend I care about anything but finding out what my next steps need to be.
Her smile fades at my continued silence, and she cuts right to the chase. “Dominic Strata. His name is Dominic Strata. He’s grappling for his family’s seat. With Papa’s influence, he’s poised to win. Chicago received word through our taps, and I heard your name come up. I was surprised… considering it was widely believed that you were dead. At least, that’s what your husband let everyone think.”
My husband.
She knows about Xavier.
“Vito is looking for me?”
She nods. “I booked the first plane out, expecting I’d find no trace of you. Your information was sold to the underground the moment your passport photo linked to your location. Dominic put out a heavy sum for reward. Our father has him around his fat finger.”
With a scoff, she tosses her bag onto the ground, shutting the door. My gun follows her as she observes my living space, eying the punching bag, the lack of food in the fridge, the film still covering the untouched oven to the bed in the corner. It’s a pitiful excuse for an apartment, devoid of any warmth or luxury, the exact opposite of what we’re used to.
My wrist stabilizes. “And are you here to claim that reward?”
“I’m here because you came to me when I was in trouble. I’m returning the favor. That’s all. It’s to serve my own selfish conscience.”
“Right on brand for you.”
She nods, taking no offense at my insult. “We can never escape this, Sophie. It’s who we are. Our social circle is too dangerous… Our enemies will only settle when we’re unable to talk.”
“Well, you’ve warned me. Consider your conscience settled.”
She gazes at me openly. I fight the urge to look down when I notice her eyes at work, scanning my features. My weary eyes. The scar on my cheekbone. My pale complexion. I must be a poor comparison to the woman who approached her all those years ago, brimming with hope for a fresh start with the man I loved. That woman could smile. She could laugh and enjoy things.
“You’ve changed,” she whispers, bracing herself with an inhale. She takes a seat at my table, unable to look in my eyes when she asks, “Were the rumors true?”
“Rumors?”
She blanches before even getting a word out. “Some men started talking after your disappearance made headlines. They said some things… horrible things…”
The gun trembles in my hand, a noise we both can hear. I lower it, disarming before her. Whatever she’s heard has scared the hell out of her.
I doubt it’s anything compared to the truth.
My silence speaks for me enough. I throw the gun onto the table right in front of her. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it. We don’t need to rehash the past.”
“I'm not here to kill you.”
“Stop pretending you have a heart, Vic. You don’t. You don’t give a shit about family. You don’t give ashitabout me.”
“You’re wrong.”
I scoff, too tired for this. I have better things to do. Ineed to plan.
“I know you can’t trust me and I'm not asking you to. When you left, it took me a long time to realize the guts it took for you to warn me and convince Xavier to stop what he was sent to do. I was brainwashed. I wanted to make Papa pay so badly that I couldn’t see anything else. But when I heard that you were gone… I remembered what I said to you, and I felt… awful. I’ve lived with that until about a week ago when I saw your face on our intelligence.”
“Our? Nicky’s?”
She shakes her head and looks down. “No, I’m not… I’m not with him anymore. Isaac is stronger than he is. He has connections. When I need to disappear, he helps me out.”
“And you’re with him? This Isaac?”
“No, he isn’t like that. He’s cold-blooded.”
