The tone is sharp, urgent. And suddenly I’m on edge. Last time a guy got in his face, I thought someone might lose a tongue. That’s what would happen if they tried it with my brothers. I’ve seen it happen.
So this guy talking to Seamus now is risking everything. It must be important. Seamus’s nostrils flare…eek.He scowls, glances at his phone, then groans under his breath.
“Tonight? Forfuck’ssake,” he mutters, his voice low and venomous.
His brows draw tight together. His gaze lifts to the young man beside him, eyes glinting with something dark, more than irritation.
And I know, just from the way Seamus looks at him, this isn’t a friend. This is someone he tolerates. Barely. Maybe even someone he’d rather destroy.
He leans toward me, lowering his voice. “Hold on a minute, Zoya. Just wait.”
He turns and talks over his shoulder to the blond guy.
His phone is right there, screen facing up. IknowI shouldn’t look. It feels like spying. But when I see the wordKopolov…I can’t look away.
The words hit me like a punch to the chest.
Kopolovs at Wolf and Moon tonight. Everything in place. Destroy them.
Oh my god.
It takes a minute for my brain to catch up. This is… this isakill order.
It’s a fucking kill order to destroy my family.
On his phone.In front of me.
I’ve heard my family talk with fear about the man they callThe Undertaker.I have a picture in my mind because I’m not new to the underground. I can already picture his wizened features and hard, cold eyes. The way he sits behind a desk, his fingers steepled, as he barks out orders to bring every family that rivals his own to their knees.
Men like him prey on the innocent and have no scruples.
Does he… does Seamus work for The Undertaker?
Panic surges through me. My pulse rings in my ears. I need to do something. I have to stop this.Now.
“Not tonight,” Seamus hisses through gritted teeth.
The man standing near him doesn’t flinch. “This… decision isn’t yours, sir. It came from above.”
I blink, half expecting murder in the next breath.
Seamus curses, then leans over the table and covers his phone with his hand.
But it’s too late.
I’ve already seen it.
I know. I know they’re coming for my family.
“You need to go home, Zoya,” he says sharply. His voice is tight, almost panicked. “Go home. Now.”
He clenches his jaw and swallows hard. Like there’s more he wants to say—but he doesn’t. He can’t.
“What’s going on?” I whisper. “Seamus… What is this?”
Who are you?
He doesn’t answer. Just looks at me with that same tortured expression.