Page 3 of Tragic Empire
So yes, I find him quite frightening. Scary or not, I know he’ll never truly hurt me. Not only is The Outfit a friend to The Kings, the British Mafia my family controls, but he loves his little sister fiercely. Hurting one of her friends in any way would make his home life miserable.
What is he trying to say?
His large hands frame my face, lightly tapping my cheeks. He’s not slapping me hard enough to hurt, just clapping my nervous system into recognition.
I have to calm down.
Just push it away for a little longer.
Numb, Ana,the ghost of Cole’s voice instructs.
“There you are,” Apollo states, looking into my watery eyes like he knows I can hear him now. “Where did this happen, Ana? Where’s Killian?”
My chest aches.Killian.
“They s-shot him too,” I sob.
Apollo grips my chin, refusing to lose my focus again. His signature Moretti blue eyes bore into my face and I wince at the intensity.
“Where, Ana?” he asks, voice cold and hard. “Do you know where this happened?”
I try to search my racing mind for the location, yet I struggle. I can picture it, but I can’t for the life of me remember where it is.
My lips wobble as I scramble to answer.
“I’ve got an address,” a new voice reports and my shoulders drop with relief. “I reversed her car’s GPS, and I have the coordinates.”
Remo, Nico’s twin. He’s the techy one of the Moretti brothers.
“Is this the place?” Apollo demands, shoving his phone in front of my eyes.
I nod instantly, recognizing the words on the screen.
“Ana,” Apollo says, tapping my cheeks again to keep my attention. “This is the most important part, okay?”
It takes every ounce of effort in me to bob my head.
“Did you escape or were you let go?”
“Let go,” I rasp. It was the strangest thing. “They killed them, and let me go. W-why would they do that?”
My obvious grief doesn’t affect the eldest Moretti. “Did they leave as well?”
I swallow thickly because that was odd too. “Yes.”
Without another word, Apollo gets to his feet, and I realize my tears have nearly dried. He’s somehow pulled me into a trance-like state, somewhere between despair and numbness.
At least it’s better than hysterics.
“Dmitri and Nico, grab the spare guards, we need to go now.”
“Be careful,” Jade immediately says, becoming nervous.
Apollo doesn’t respond to her. “Armani can be our eyes in the sky. Tell him to get onto the nearest roof there.” I don’t know who he’s directing specifically, but everyone seems to be moving. “Let’s go, Ivan, you too.”
“Ivan needs to stay here,” Dmitri tells him immediately. Firmly.
The eldest Moretti son blinks at him. “We could use him.”
