The burn in my throat wasn’t from the alcohol.
And for the first time since I came back from the dead… I wondered if I’d just walked into a new kind of grave. What game was she really playing? She had her reasons. I assumed it was in order to pave her own way and marry who she wanted in order to gain power. It didn’t matter, I’d figure it out and as long as she stayed out of my way we’d be fine.
Besides, we all have our secrets.
Let her have hers because mine were big enough to burn the world with both of us in it.
I poured another glass of whiskey and lifted the glass. “To John. I vow to find who took you from us and when I do—I'll repay them in kindness even if it’s the face of my wife, even if it’s somehow related to me. The trigger will be pulled, blood will be spilled, amen.”
3
TEMPEST
I will show you fear in a handful of dust. —T.S. Eliot
"We don’t fire bullets—we plant ideas. It’s much more dangerous that way, this line of work.”
I still remember his voice and the way he held me when he said it like it wasn’t the most dangerous thing anyone has ever said to me in my life. I thought I was getting ice cream and a solid Tinder match, instead I was getting pulled into a war I wanted no part of and completely unable to protect myself without getting my sister and the people I loved involved.
In short, I was being recruited and they’d used my sex drive to do it.
I’d tell you I didn’t know better, but I did. I knew the second he touched me, the second he held me like I was already a memory. The Vescovi family didn’t play fair—they whispered across oceans, made kings disappear, and bred monsters behind mahogany doors. No one ever saw them coming until it was way too late—my own family included.
And yet, there I was, making out with the heir in the back corner of the university library before he injected something into my neck and said, “Be a good girl, Tempest.”
To be fair he didn’t look like a criminal—does anyone really in this day and age? For all I know, they can be training children, dogs, peacocks.
And him? For one thing, he had red hair, not that it mattered, but it was extremely red and what kind of murderer stuck out so much? What kind of person wanted to be seen? He had glasses too, was tall, good looking, wicked smart and was working on his Ph.D. so my whole mafia or crime radar did not go off. I don’t think anyone’s danger radar would have as much as glitched.
My nerd radar did something though when we matched. I thought finally, hot nerd, blow off some steam, sign me up, let’s go! I did not plan for being attacked before a promised orgasm next to the Ancient History section.
Hah, ideal, really, because our relationship or whatever it was—was exactly that.
I shuddered at the memory.
It didn’t matter.
I had a way out now.
My soon to be husband.
Brilliant, if you asked me
I refused to feel guilt. He’s the one that said yes to my favor without asking what it was. See also: People do stupid shit when they’re in love and since he lost my sister to none other than Ace De Lange all this poor decision making was on him.
I needed an out, which meant I needed a way in.
The Vescovi family was not just lethal—they traded in secrets, something I knew well, which is why I normally keep my mouth shut, but his damn tongue made me open it more—the needle of poison aka his own brand of truth serum also didn’t help.
Before I knew it—I was confessing all sorts of things without realizing I’d been conned. He’d gotten it on camera and said he’d sell to the highest bidder if I told anyone in the family and then he dangled the carrot even further.
“Do you want to play a game?” He leaned back against the wall of the library. Somehow his shirt seemed too small on him, his biceps too big, and his hair too red.
I frowned. “Do you dye your hair?”
“Do you?” he countered without missing a beat.
“No.”