Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
The truth sits between us, heavy and suffocating.
Bria is still staring at the frozen screen, at the last image of her mother. Alive, fighting, desperate to finish what she started. Her jaw clenches, hands trembling against the wooden desk as she grips the edge like it’s the only thing holding her together.
I should say something.
But what the hell do you say to that?
Neither of us move.
The only sound is the faint hum of the laptop’s cooling fan, the soft creak of the wooden floor beneath my shifting weight. My throat tightens, my pulse pounding so loud it drowns out everything else.
Bria breathes in. Breathes out.
“So,” she murmurs, voice hollow. “Are you ready?”
I force myself to swallow the lump in my throat, to push past the weight sitting heavy on my chest. “We have to rest, Bria.” I know we do. We’ve driven half way across the country, discovering a truth that will shatter everything back home.
Bria scoffs, shaking her head. “They buried the truth! We have no time to rest. I will sleep peacefully when they’re six feet under the ground.”
I meet her eyes, the weight of what we just saw pressing down on my chest like a stone. Then, a twig snaps outside.
We all still, Elenor’s hand reaching over to grab a rifle. She puts her finger to her lips.
A second of tense, brittle silence.
Then, the first shot shatters the window.
Glass explodes everywhere, raining down in shards, slicing into the wooden floor, into my skin, my face. My ears ring violently from the gunfire, the echo of the explosion consuming everything.
Eleanor leads us to the back of the house, hovering over our bodies with hers. “Eleanor,” Bria grabs her face. “Go out the back and go home. This isn’t your fight and I will not allow you to be harmed.” She sounds so much like her brother it makes me ache.
“I will protect you two.” She states, pulling down a wooden desk as a shield.
“Do your kids have grandchildren?” She asks, not flinching as bullets rip apart the house.
Eleanor nods, tears streaming down her face.
“They need you more than we do, go. Thank you for everything but leave.”
Gunfire rips through the house, bullets tearing through walls, splintering furniture, whizzing past our heads. The entire place erupts into chaos as Eleanor slips out the backdoor.
Bria reacts, grabbing me by the arm and shoving me down behind the overturned table.
Her breath is sharp, erratic. “We need to move. Now.”
I nod, my pulse hammering against my ribs. “How did they track us?”
Bria curses under her breath. “Zeik.”
Another shot slams into the table beside me, splintering wood.
No more waiting. No more thinking.
We run out the back door, flanking left as we watch Eleanor already deep in the woods to our right. She’s safe.
The air is thick with smoke, heavy and suffocating.
We don’t slow down, we keep running. We crash through the backyard, feet slamming against the dirt path, heading toward our car parked in the driveway.
Bria yanks me back just in time.
The car explodes.
A blast of heat slams into my face, sending both of us flying back. The shockwave is deafening, the ground ripping out from under us. My vision blurs as I land hard, my back slamming against the ground.
My ears ring. The world spins.
The flames rise high, swallowing the car, licking at the darkness with violent hunger.
Bria groans beside me, pressing a hand against her forehead, blood trickling down her temple. “Yeah. Okay. That was close.”
I cough, my throat burning, my arms shaking as I try to push myself up. Everything hurts.
My heart slams against my ribs. “They’re trying to kill us.”
Bria coughs out a bitter laugh. “No shit, Sherlock.”
The fire rages behind us, but we don’t have time to stand here and watch.
They’re still out there.
Coming for us.
Bria grabs my hand, hauling me up. “We have to go.”
I glance around wildly, searching for cover. “Where?”
She points toward the tree line. “The woods.”
I don’t hesitate.
We run.
Branches tear at my clothes, dirt stains my knees as we stumble through the thick brush. The sounds of gunfire fade, but we don’t stop.
Not until we see it.
A shack.
Old, worn-down, nestled between the trees.
Bria pulls me inside, slamming the door shut behind us. The air is damp, the scent of salt and decay heavy. But it’s shelter.
We’re alive.
For now.
Bria leans against the wall, breathing hard, her hands shaking as she reaches into her jacket pocket.
She pulls her burner phone out and makes a call. There’s an answer on the first ring. “We were just attacked.” Bria cries, “you were right.”
“Is Magnolia dead?” The blood drains from my face because I know that voice, Zeik.
My stomach turns. My breath stutters.
And then, it clicks.
Bria called him, she said they knew where we were because of Zeik.
I go rigid, my pulse pounding in my ears.
I take a step back as she meets my eyes. Expression blank.
Unreadable.
Then she smiles.
Cold. Sharp. Calculated.
And says, “Yes.” Oh my God.
Bria’s been working with him.
The betrayal is ice in my veins.
My hands curl into fists. My entire world starts spinning.
I trusted her.
I ran with her.
And the entire time, she was an enemy.
"Are you okay?" Zeik says. "I can’t believe this is happening. Had to be the Nero’s.” He is so full of shit. “Don’t tell your brother, we need to get together and figure out exactly what happened.”
She hangs up.
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Then she laughs.
A breathless, exhausted sound.
I stare at her, frozen.
She looks at me, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Holy shit, Magnolia. You actually think I’m on his side?”
My lungs finally unlock.
I blink, shrinking away from her. “What just happened?”
Bria rolls her eyes. “Jesus, Mags. Give me a little credit.” She waves the phone. “You really think I’d betray you after all this?”
I shake my head, trying to keep up. “Then why the hell did you just…”
She cuts me off. "He called me while we were at the gas station, when I told him we were headed to Florida…” She shakes her head, “That’s why we were ambushed. He told me to not trust you, or anyone, that the Nero’s were making moves."
The realization crashes into me.
Bria’s not working for Zeik.
She’s been working every angle.
I press a hand to my forehead, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ. The Nero’s don’t exist.”
She grins. “Gotcha, huh? No, there’s no way. You heard our parents, it’s always the Caputo’s. I would bet money that Zeik is the one who laid that bullet in front of your door.”
I let out a half-laugh, half-sob. “Bria, I swear to God.”
She winks. “You love me.”
I groan, sliding down against the wall. “I hate you.”
She plops down beside me. “No, you don’t.”
I don’t.
But I swear, she’s gonna give me a damn heart attack. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I think,” Bria ponders for a moment, “like your dad said… they want us to tear each other down from within. I don’t listen to half the shit these men tell me.
I think when he found out we were headed to Florida he knew we were going to the safe house.
They’ve had that address all along. They’re going to tell our families it was the Nero’s but we still have time, he wants to meet with me before he spills the lies. ”
Bria meets my gaze, her grin sharp. “You ready to burn it all down?”
I don’t hesitate.
“Absolutely.”
The wind howls against the thin wooden walls, rattling the shutters like they might tear at any second. It’s barely holding together, kind of like me.
Bria sits cross-legged on the rickety floor, spinning the burner phone between her fingers.
The screen glows faintly in the dim light of the old lantern we found in the corner, the only thing illuminating the space. The tension between us is thick, heavy with what just happened. As soon as the call ended, the men backed off, now all that’s left in their wake is silence.
Zeik Caputo thinks I’m dead.
Bria made sure of it.
“We can’t go back yet,” I finally say, breaking the silence.
Bria exhales, shaking her head. “No shit.”
I glance at her, but she’s still focused on the phone, tapping it idly against her knee. She’s thinking, probably a little too much.
Bria isn’t rattled easily. But this? This was close.
I cross my arms, shifting my weight. “We need a plan.”
Bria snorts, finally looking up. “Yeah, no kidding. Got one?”
I press my lips together, rolling the thought over in my mind before speaking. “Zeik thinks I’m dead. That’s the only advantage we have right now. We let him keep thinking that while we figure out our next move.”
Bria leans back on her elbows, considering. “So… what? We just disappear? Pretend we don’t exist while he moves in and takes over everything?”
I shake my head. “No. We watch. We listen. We figure out who’s loyal to who.”
Bria whistles low, tapping her fingers against the table. “And what about Cameron?”
My brother.
Cameron Rusco, head of the Rusco family, will think I’m gone. And if I know him at all, he will be looking for revenge, falling into the Caputo trap.
I swallow. “He can’t know, I have to stay in the dark, even when we get home.”
Bria raises a brow. “You really think keeping your own brother in the dark is a good idea?”
“Yes.” I don’t hesitate. “He’ll react. He’ll do something stupid. If he knows I’m alive, he’ll try to bring me back, and right now? That’s the worst thing he could do.”
Bria considers that, then nods slowly. “Okay. Fair point. But what if he finds out anyway?”
I exhale, dragging a hand through my tangled hair. “We won’t keep it secret forever, just long enough for us to get the upper hand.”
Bria smirks. “Look at you. Thinking like a proper mob boss.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m thinking like someone who’s tired of getting played.”
Bria tilts her head. “That’s basically the same thing.”
I shake my head, but a flicker of amusement pulls at my lips. Only Bria could joke at a time like this.
Her expression shifts, more serious now. “Alright, then what about Sin?”
My stomach tightens.
Sin Donati.
“He can’t know either,” I say, forcing my voice to stay even.
Bria lets out a sharp laugh. “Oh, yeah, that’ll go over well. Can’t wait to see his face when he thinks his wife is dead.”
My chest clenches. I picture him now, the way he will unravel from the seams.
But I can’t afford to tell him yet.
Bria watches me carefully. “You sure about that?”
I hesitate. I hate it. Every part of me wants to run straight to him, to tell him I’m here, I’m alive, I’m sorry.
But I can’t.
Not yet.
I nod. “I’m sure. We’re going to have to get on a plane after a few days of lying low, Bria. If we tell them over the phone, we may go back and have no one left. The Caputo’s might kill them all.”
Bria sighs, stretching her arms above her head. “Well, you officially suck at making the men’s lives easier.”
I arch a brow. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Bria grins. “Honestly? It’s kinda hot.”
I groan, shoving her lightly. “Focus.”
She laughs, but then the humor fades as her gaze drifts toward the darkened window. The wind rattles the shutters, sending a fresh wave of unease through me.
Bria leans forward, elbows on her knees. “Let’s get out of here.”