My eyes widened. “That’s it?”
Obi had always maneuvered me for his own goals, and despite his previous promise that he’d stop trying to manipulate us, his easy compliance to my demands was still surprising.
“All you have to do is speak the word and we will do this for you.” He brushed some hair out of my face. I opened my mouth to protest, but he pressed a finger to my lips. “We will do it together.”
“What about Max?” I asked.
His earnestness bled into a practiced calm. “Max is a problem that requires a solution. His past actions are not erased because you escaped together.”
“I know.” I frowned. “But what about the Camorra? What if he comes after us?”
“Then he would be a fool,” he replied. “Max is just as injured as you. He will need time to recuperate. In the meantime, we will make preparations and plans. With our men, the Russians, and the Irish, we now present a formidable force he’ll have to consider before he makes another move against us.”
“What about Lucia Greco?”
We’d captured Max’s hacker, the granddaughter of the Head of the Camorra, and she’d been in the care of Giulio’s men ever since. Before I’d been kidnapped, we were trying to figure out what to do with her.
“We will return her,” Obi said. “So we don’t draw their ire while we’re focusing on this.”
Yeah, that was smart. I gusted a breath while picking at the edge of my shirt and trying to solidify this plan in my head. “Okay. We’ll go after the Vokshi Clan, but we can’t let up against him either. We have to split our efforts: taking down theirtrafficking, but continuing to be a thorn in Max’s side. Do we have the manpower to do it?”
“Yes.”
I nodded. More and more plans took shape within my head. We’d start with the ships. If I was on a ship, there had to be more. Then, we’d need to hit Max hard enough to back him off for good.
My thumb swirled my engagement ring around my finger. “Okay, so?—”
“Shh,ifunanya’m,” he whispered. He whispered more Igbo in my ear while his arm tightened around me and his hand guided my head back to his chest. “We will gain enough power that no one can threaten us again. This I swear to you. But rest now. Heal first.”
His body enveloped mine. I looked up to his face, drawing from his strength and calm. His head tilted down, and he pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. It was so tender it had tears pricking my eyes again, and it was over in a moment. When he pulled away, he kissed my fingertips again and clutched my hand to his chest.
He was warm. Sturdy. Safe.
His hand drew soft circles against my back while my eyes fluttered closed.
20
MAX
15 YEARS OLD
Ihadn’t cried since my mother died.
When Uncle told me that my father was dead, I thought I might cry again, but I just felt cold. Empty.
Leona kept looking at me throughout his funeral, expecting me to cry. Her fingers had curled around mine as she stood next to me. She was warm. At least I still had her. Together, we had watched Papa’s casket lower into the ground.
Around us, wet and sticky snow fell. The trees were already bare. This winter was supposed to be especially cold. Fitting.
After it was over, we piled back into the funeral caravan to head back to the house. Uncle was throwing a huge reception so the Family could pay their respects. Cas slipped into the black SUV on Leona’s other side. He’d watched the funeral from his place beside Alessio, but Uncle hadn’t allowed him to stand by us.
“Max,” she whispered, grabbing my hand again. “It’s going to be okay.”
It wasn’t, but I couldn’t tell her that. Only she knew what this pain felt like. Only she knew that, truthfully, it never went away.
I wrapped my arm around her and squeezed. She laid herhead on my shoulder. On her other side, Cas reached his hand to me across her lap.
“We’re here for you,” he added. “Both of us.”
