Page 93 of Goldrage
Even when Aurelia told me about her revenge and hit list, she deceived me. Said she’d let me help, let me be part of it. More lies. She went against my advice not to kill Victoria, and it unleashed hell that nearly destroyed us all.
She didn’t actually want my help, she only wanted someone to shut up and listen to her rants about justice.
They allsaythey want me in their lives, but their actions reveal the truth.
The realization that they’re plotting behind my back should probably anger me. Should send me into a murderous rage. But I find I feel nothing beyond a kind of distant admiration of whatever Adrian has been working on. If my brother wants to destroy what’s left of our world, I won’t stand in his way this time. I’m done with all this shit. I’m done trying to play leader or command respect when he’s always going to be better at it.
It’s no longer my empire to fight for orcare about.
I only want out.
But…
One thing I’ve always been better at than Adrian is fighting.
He can unleash hell or whatever he wants to at that party, but I’m not going to be completely passive. If everyone else is playing games, if everyone else is positioning pieces on boards I can’t see, then I’ll ensure I have options.
And in the end, Aurelia and that baby are coming with me.
I press the intercom button beside my bed, my voice hoarse from disuse when I speak. “Send Tony up. I need to speak with him.”
Minutes later, one of the few guards who still acknowledges my authority knocks on my door. Tony is a mid-level guard who’s been with the family for years. He and I have always gotten along, and that bond is still intact. He told me yesterday that he’s with me no matter what. That he always hated Adrian. Along with Tony, I have at least five men who are still loyal. Not really an army, but better than nothing.
“Sir?” Tony stands at attention in the doorway.
I don’t turn from the window, my gaze still fixed on the garden below where everyone is playing their version of Risk. “That birthday party is tonight?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I need you to go to the Mancini estate as soon as it starts.”
“Sir?”
“I need you to retrieve something,” I continue, my reflection ghostlike in the window glass. “Can I count on you? I’ll pay you whatever you want.”
“Of course, sir. What am I retrieving?”
For the first time in days, I grin. “Insurance.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
AURELIA
The Harrow estate ballroom glitters like a jewel, crystal chandeliers casting warm light over Seattle’s most dangerous elite as they celebrate Antonio Castellano’s eightieth birthday. I stand near the marble columns with Eleanora, both of us dressed elegantly enough to blend with the crowd while also concealing the bulletproof vests we’re wearing. Everyone has been complaining about how cold it is, but Valentine turned the temperature down so us wearing faux fur doesn’t look strange.
“So many people,” Eleanora says as her eyes scan the room. “Adrian’s timing is perfect. Everyone who matters is here.”
I adjust my emerald dress—a deliberate choice that matches my necklace—and nod toward the far corner where Olivia is talking to a group of socialites. “Olivia’s people are in position?”
“Lorenzo confirmed it this morning. She’s more than lived up to her end of the deal. The Marlowe family’sinfluence with law enforcement will help a lot. And her men are well-trained. In exchange, she gets her freedom.”
France.That’s where Lorenzo told me Olivia wanted to escape to. All she wanted was permission to disappear, to start over somewhere she could build a quiet life away from the violence that had defined her existence. She even wants to start a family. I’m happy for her. Someday, when this is all over, maybe I’ll visit her there.
If we all survive the next few hours.
Lady Harrow is near the orchestra. But even from across the room, I can see the tension in her posture, the way her smile isn’t as perfect as usual. She knows her life is teetering on a cliff’s edge.
My eyes dart to Antonio Castellano standing near the massive birthday cake. He’s basically a body of wrinkles, but he’s very animated as he shares stories from the Consortium’s early days. He’s next to Sergio. Nearby, representatives from the Smith, Whitman, and DeMarco families cluster in their respective corners.
