Page 66 of Lone Wolf

“Anytime you need to brush up on your skills, Rittoli,” Ariadne says, “I’d be happy to knock you on your ass again for old times’ sake.”

Everyone laughs, including Enzo, who clutches his heart dramatically. “Wounded! But fair.” Elijah and Zach wander over, completing the members of our recruit cohort who have been admitted to full membership. Some of the others quit partway through, and a few more have been told they need another six months before they try again. So it strikes me then, looking at all of us together, how far we’ve come, and in such a short time. From wary strangers to snippy rivals to a tight-knit team who’d die for each other.

“The gang’s all here,” Zach says, raising his glass. “To survival.”

“To survival,” we echo.

Ricky and Mario appear, the latter carrying a tray of shots.

“Special occasion calls for special drinks,” Mario announces, distributing the small glasses. “Lyssa’s private stock. Don’t tell her I took it.”

“Too late,” comes Lyssa’s dry voice as she materializes behind him. “But I’ll let it slide. Tonight’s worth celebrating.”

I take the shot—it burns pleasantly down my throat, warming me from the inside out.

“More reasons to celebrate, too,” Ricky says. “We got confirmation from Johnny the Gentleman today. The last Mancini safe house in Illinois has closed down. Their entire state network is officially dismantled.”

A cheer goes up from our little group.

“And eighty-seven women freed,” Mario adds proudly.

I feel a swell of satisfaction at those numbers. Eighty-seven women who will get a chance at a new life, just like Mari. It won’t erase what happened to them, but they’ll have the opportunity to heal, to build something new.

“The de Luca network has already placed most of them,” Lyssa adds. “Jobs, housing, therapy—whatever they need.”

“And the Mancinis?” I ask.

“Running scared,” Lyssa says with obvious satisfaction. “They’re pulling back entirely, heading back to New York. Word on the street is they think we’ve got some kind of personal vendetta.”

“Imagine that,” Ariadne murmurs, her hand finding mine and squeezing gently.

Mrs. Graves joins our circle, carrying a plate of food. “Sarah, darling, you need to eat something,” she says, offering the plate to Ariadne. “You barely touched breakfast this morning.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Ariadne says, accepting the plate. “I was a little nervous about today.”

“You had nothing to be nervous about,” her mother says with obvious pride, patting Ariadne’s cheek in a gesture so maternal it makes my heart ache. “You were magnificent, as always.”

I watch them together, marveling at the transformation in their relationship. After that day in the garage with Katy, something broke open in Ariadne. The walls she’d built around herself began to crumble, and Mrs. Graves—with infinite patience and unconditional love—was there to welcome her daughter home. Now they have dinner together twice a week, and I’ve even seen them laughing together over old photos and shared memories.

And Mr. Fluffikins now rests on Ariadne’s bed in her dorm room—though soon we’ll be able to move into the mansion, and I guess he’ll migrate with her. I hope we’ll get rooms near each other. Maybe with an adjoining door…or maybe we should just give in and get a room together, based on how often we end up in each other’s beds these days.

Ariadne catches me smirking and raises an eyebrow. I just grin and shake my head.

The party continues around us. At some point, Aurora joins us, bringing Hadria with her. The Boss is as intimidating as ever in her tailored black suit, but even she seems relaxed tonight, one arm draped casually around Aurora’s waist.

“Santiago. Graves,” Hadria acknowledges us with a nod. “Impressive work these past months.”

“Thank you,” we say almost in unison.

“I hear Mari is settling in well at Mrs. Graves’s cottage,” Aurora says to me.

I nod, warmth spreading through me at the mention of my sister. “She is. Mrs. G has been good for her—and I think Mari really loves it here at Elysium.”

“And the therapy is helping?” Aurora asks.

“It seems to be. She told me Dr. Khatri says she’s making progress.” I smile, thinking of Mari’s determined face during our morning walks around the grounds. “She wants to join Johnny de Luca’s network eventually, help other women who’ve been trafficked. But for now, she’s focusing on her own healing.”

“And on reconnecting with you,” Ariadne adds softly.

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