“That’s not true, Wynn.”
I shook my head. Itwastrue. I wasn’t like Ryuji, who had no qualms about taking life and so never carried the burden of what we did. I carried the weight of every life I’d taken. Saving people, helping Leona, slowly took that burden away. Gave itreason. It moved my needle from deep in the red, closer and closer to neutral. If I did enough good with my abilities, it would erase the bad.
I’d ruined things, but I could fix it.
“I think if Mum and Dad could see you, they’d be proud of the man you’ve become.”
Willow went back to our home about a year after we were first taken, but I couldn’t bear to. She had kept in touch with our parents, so they knew we were both alive and well. They asked about me, and I asked about them, and Willow carefully controlled the story she told them about what happened to us and what work we did now. Mum and Dad would be horrified by who I’d become. How could they not be? Maybe one day I’d return home, but not until I’d made up for everything I’d done.
My eyes snagged on my dresser, where dozens of trinkets lay on top. Gifts from victims I’d rescued over the years.
“No, they wouldn’t. My path to redemption lies in saving victims and helping Leona create a better New York where no one has to suffer the way we suffered.”
“If you’re bad, then so am I.”
Ridiculous. There was no comparison. “You save lives. I take them.”
“You save lives, too.”
I scoffed. “Not as many as I’ve taken.”
She huffed while her mouth turned down at the edges. “Killing the Albanians won’t make you feel better.”
“It will,” I breathed. “It always does.”
Before I met Leona, doing my work—sniffing out traffickers and rescuing their victims—always helped fill the hollow ache in my chest. At least for a little while.
After Leona found me in the warehouse, she lit me up from within with her light. She gave me focus and purpose. And now, the two things I cared about most in the world had collided.
I failed at protecting Leona, but I wouldn’t fail her or their victims any longer.
Willow sighed heavily. “Your guilt will eat you up inside if you’re not careful.”
The guilt didn’t matter anymore. I deserved to feel guilt. I’d deserved to live with the shame of what I’d done, what I’d failed to do.
I’d carry it all for the rest of my life.
The only thing that mattered was proving to Leona and my brothers that they could trust me again. I would stop at nothing to find that salvation.
22
CIEL
Aweek crawled by.
The guys and I had to force Leona and Wynn to rest. Both chafed at the idea of sitting around, complaining that the rest of us had barricaded them inside the penthouse. I’d been on the receiving end of plenty of eye rolls and annoyed huffs when I stayed on top of Wynn’s medicine regimen, but Willow had put me in charge of him before she left and I wouldn’t let her down.
As much as we all wanted things to go back to the way they were before, nothing was the same.
Leona was skittish. She was barely eating or sleeping. She’d snuggle up with us on the couch or when we fell asleep on the big bed, but she’d wake up with nightmares. She was always cold, needing heaps of blankets on the bed just to erase the chill. It broke my heart to see her struggling, but every time I’d tried to ask about how she was doing, she’d shut me down with a half-hearted smile and assurances that she was completely fine.
Since we wouldn’t let her go into the field yet, she dove into her work with Vero Construction Inc.—her father’s legitimate construction business—and had exchanged dozens of emails withher “mentor” there, one of the board members in our pocket, about the VCI projects. We were finally getting a handle on our gun smuggling with the Chinese weapons via the VCI transport routes.
If she wasn’t doing that, then she was working with me on the Vokshi Clan. As a family, we’d agreed to split our focus between going after the Vokshi and continuing to hit Max. We’d returned Lucia Greco successfully by dropping her in Volpe’s territory. I’d tracked her return to Italy via airplane and confirmed when she’d returned to Naples. We’d just have to wait and see how the Camorra reacted.
We couldn’t be distracted by the Vokshi and let Max undermine our growing foothold in New York. We also couldn’t let the Vokshi operate without retribution. We had to end their trafficking, but they’d made it personal. None of us would let what happened to Wynn and Leona go unanswered.
However, the Vokshi were going to be a problem.
