Page 45 of Lone Wolf

“My older sister, Marisol, was trafficked when I was sixteen,” I say, the words coming faster now. “My father sold her to a Chicago ring—and I think it was connected to the one we busted last night. I’ve been looking for her ever since. That’s why I joined the Syndicate. To find her.”

The three women exchange looks I can’t interpret. Ariadne sits motionless opposite me, her jaw tight.

“When we found those women in the warehouse,” I continue, “and none of them was my sister, I just…I lost it. I couldn’t stop.” My voice cracks, but I push on. “Ariadne pulled me off him. She took the blame to protect me, to keep me from getting kicked out before I could find Mari.”

Silence falls over the room. I look between the three senior members, trying to gauge their reactions. Hadria’s expressionremains inscrutable. Lyssa’s brow is furrowed slightly, and Scarlett is watching me with what might be sympathy—or might be calculation.

“I understand if you want to kick me out,” I finish, my hands clenched into fists under the table. “But don’t punish Ariadne for something she didn’t do. She was just trying to help me.”

“That’s very noble of you, Santiago,” Hadria says finally. “Taking the blame at the eleventh hour.”

“It’s not a gesture,” I insist. “It’s the truth.”

“It’s a lie,” Ariadne counters firmly. “Santiago is merely trying to protect me, but the responsibility is mine.”

“Well,” Hadria says, leaning back in her chair, “we have a situation where both of you claim to be responsible. How interesting.”

Scarlett and Lyssa exchange glances, and I get the distinct impression they’re communicating something without words.

Ariadne straightens her spine, her expression hardening. “I am prepared to accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate.”

A hint of something—perhaps amusement—crosses Hadria’s face. “Yes, I’m sure you are. And I have decided on your punishment.” She pauses, and my stomach drops. “I think you’ll find it particularly difficult to bear.”

Ariadne’s face betrays nothing, but I see her knuckles whiten where her hands are clasped on the table.

“Group therapy,” Hadria announces. “Led by Dr. Khatri. And you’ll be joined by Scarlett...” She pauses, letting the moment stretch. “And the woman who calls herself Katy.”

My breath catches. Katy—the woman from Grandmother’s organization who’s been held in the secure wing since Lyssa and Scarlett brought her back from Vegas.

“Do you accept your punishment, Ariadne?” Hadria asks.

The silence that follows is deafening. I look at Ariadne, watching the tiny muscle jumping in her jaw, the tightening around her eyes. For a terrifying moment, I think she’s going to refuse.

Scarlett leans forward, her voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Listen, you’re still caught up in ideas of punishments and rewards. But that was Grandmother’s game. You know it’s not how the Syndicate operates.”

Ariadne’s eyes close briefly, a soft sigh escaping her. When she opens them again, there’s a resignation in her gaze. “I accept,” she says quietly.

Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived as Hadria turns her steely gaze in my direction.

“As for you, Santiago,” she says, “don’t think you’re getting off scot-free.”

I straighten, bracing myself. “I understand.”

“You will also be required to undertake personal therapy with Dr. Khatri,” Hadria continues. “However, you will remain on the team going forward—provided you can demonstrate that you will not be a danger to yourself or others. Do you accept these terms?”

For a moment, I’m too stunned to speak. They’re not kicking me out. They’re not even removing me from active duty. I nod, speechless, then find my voice. “Yes. Yes, of course I accept.” I hesitate, then add, “Did…did you hear anything at all about more trafficking victims? About…my sister?”

Something softens minutely in Hadria’s expression. “We’ll look into it. Johnny de Luca wants us to keep going, to dismantle the Mancini network here in Chicago completely—and the Syndicate has extensive resources, as you know. If she’s alive, we’ll find her.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, overwhelmed by the unexpected leniency.

“You’re both free to go,” Hadria says, rising from her chair, signaling the end of the meeting. “But please remember—the Syndicate is meant to be a community, not a place of rivalry or secrecy.”

I stand, legs a little shaky with relief, and see Ariadne doing the same across the table. But before we can turn to leave, she speaks up.

“If all of Grandmother’s protégés are supposed to have group therapy together,” Ariadne asks, a hint of her usual defiance returning, “why won’t Lyssa be attending?”

Lyssa’s face splits into a wolfish grin. “Why the hell would I need therapy?”

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