I needed Tempest to trust me enough to finally tell me.
She stirred in my arms. “What time is it?”
I exhaled slowly. “What does Cassian want?” I asked. “Not what he says. What does he really want? I don’t care what leverage he has—I need to know what he needs me to do.”
She looked up at me, then down at her bandaged, bloodstained hand.
“They adopted him when he was little,” she said quietly. “They won’t kill him. They won’t use him either. He’s like a trophy.”
I frowned.
“He wants to know where he came from,” she continued. “His real last name. Why he matters. That’s it.”
I nodded slowly. “They abused him. Hated him. Then turned him into a weapon.” I swallowed. “That usually means he’s connected to someone powerful.”
She sighed, propping herself on her elbows. “Know any mob bosses missing a kid? Maybe he was taken.”
I froze. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”
She tilted her head. “Instead of asking the Vescovis… you could always ask my dad.”
I said nothing.
Because by then, Dante Alfero would already be dead.
“I’ll think about it,” I said instead. “Let’s just enjoy the day.”
She stretched, completely unaware of the clock screaming in my head. “Can’t. It’s my mom’s birthday. We have to go over to the house.”
And just like that?—
Opportunity presented itself, wrapped in cake and candles.
I could do it tonight.
I could do it now.
Adrenaline surged through my veins, cold and electric.
I kissed her forehead and stood. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”
The countdown had begun.
21
TEMPEST
Freedom is the recognition of necessity. — Immanuel Kant
Something was off.
I’d known it the moment I woke up. Louis was quieter than usual—too controlled, like he was holding himself together with wire instead of bone and muscle. Last night alone was enough to rattle anyone, but this felt different. Purposeful.
Then he grabbed one of the boxes.
The box.
The one I’d kept the vials in.