Page 26 of Thorns of Death
“That pisses me off so much,” I grumbled under my breath. “You know, ’cause they aresofucking perfect. That tells me that Dante Leone is a fucking moron.”
“I know.”
“And Amon?” I questioned.
Reina’s shoulders stiffened and the temperature in the room lowered a few degrees.
“What about him?” Her voice was as cold as winter in Siberia.
“You’ll have to see him all the time,” I pointed out. “What if Dante finds out about the history you two share? Or that you killed—”
Her hand shot to my mouth, her fingers pressing firmly, stopping the words from coming out. “Don’t say it, Isla. Never utter those words.”
I nodded and she removed her fingers from my lips. “I’m worried about you. He could use you as some kind of leverage. He could come after all of us.”
She shook her head, those curls bouncing. “I’ll never—fucking ever—tell anyone about your involvement in that mess. If it comes out, I did it all on my own. Do you hear what I’m saying?”
I let out a sardonic breath. “And you think I’d let you take the fall? You must not know me very well.”
“It can’t be any other way. Besides, I did it. I killed him. The rest of it—” She gulped, her delicate neck bobbing as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Well, everything else is meaningless.”
“Not exactly.” I wouldn’t call chopping up a man’s body meaningless. “What if they find… the pieces?”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “Let’s hope it doesn’t happen. But if it does, you take care of Phoenix.”
“Reina, nothing will—”
She shifted around so she was facing me on her knees as she took my face between her hands. Our eyes met, and while physically she looked so much younger than her twenty-one years, the look in her eyes was ancient. Exhausted.
“You promise me you’ll watch over Phoenix,” she whispered. “I mean it, Isla. No matter what happens, if any part of that body is found, I did it. Understood?”
The panic and anguish in her eyes had my heart squeezing. She deserved happiness after everything that happened. Yet it seemed as though life kept kicking her down. And by the expression on her face, she expected it to.
“I promise,” I assured her.
But I’d find a way to ensure that body was never fucking found.
NINE
ENRICO
My phone buzzed. The dreaded number.
“Cazzo,” I muttered as I grabbed it and slid it open.
The familiar scene started playing. Messy. Distorted. Parts of it were blocked by Manuel’s and Kingston’s bodies. My gut wrenched and my blood froze each time I watched it. I knew it by heart. I’d fucking lived it. It was always the same video. Yet, every time this fucking video came, I held my breath. I didn’t pray. There was no saving the likes of me.
A red mist coated my vision as my eyes traced the movements on the surveillance. I saw the familiar body in the vehicle, and then the massive explosion that left nothing of it. Just memories and ash.
Violent anger shot through me, and I threw the phone across the room, where it hit the wall and cracked open. The pieces of it scattered all over the floor just as the door to my office flung open.
Manuel entered my office without knocking. As per usual.
Giulio was right behind him. Manuel grimaced before tracing the broken pieces with his eyes. He shook his head, but to his credit, he didn’t comment.
“The file on your mystery woman,” he said instead.
I glanced up from the desk. There was only one mystery woman. Isla Evans. Instantly, the haze in my brain began to clear.
