Chapter 25
Four of my men dead, three buildings destroyed, and now my name—my name is being destroyed.
You are making a mess of our city,” Tobias Saint nearly shouted.
He swiped a stack of newspapers from his desk, sending them fluttering to the floor in a messy pile.
A few contained wanted ads with photos that stared up at Layla from the floor.
If someone had told her a few years ago that she would once again find herself in front of Tobias at the Saint residence, Layla would have called them a dirty liar.
Now she sat in the Saint patriarch’s study with her hands bound behind her by Saint chains.
This new house she did not recognize from her childhood, but the threatening nature of this man’s anger and all the sinister things he got up to in his office remained.
Layla tried to concentrate on her battered body healing instead of Elise’s pained tone while she spoke to her father.
“Don’t you understand that the city is no longer ours?
It was never ours to begin with. There are reapers with lives and people who deserve to live without the fear of what the government, or whatever self-proclaimed powerful man with money, is doing to poison them—” Elise tried to press on, but her father waved a dismissive hand at her.
“So you’ve taken it upon yourself to fix things? Without acknowledging how this reflects on our legacy and this empire—without acknowledging how this reflects on New York and the country?” Tobias snapped.
Elise’s lips quivered. “The way you encourage the abuse of weaker individuals is the worst reflection of all. No one trusts you or this empire because of what you’ve done. If you really cared about Harlem, you would help us.”
Tobias passed a hand over his face, sighing.
The man might have aged twenty years since this conversation had started less than an hour ago.
Lines deepened on his face, and his eyes grew so dark, they looked black in the low light.
“I am not sure what you expect me to do. Foreign criminals have control over many of my assets now.” He pressed his knuckles to the top of his desk and leaned against it, sighing.
“The Mafia is not something you can just barter with. They’ve been here forever, and they only grow larger and more dangerous every year.
It’s no surprise they saw my success and decided to latch onto it.
I’m shocked Sterling has never told you about them.
My men have run into them countless times.
One of their past bosses even approached me with a pitch for business many years ago.
They’re vicious. But this particular family that’s just arrived from Sicily is hell-bent on revenge against your girl. ”
Layla shot him a dirty look but said nothing. The man wasn’t worth wasting her breath.
He dropped his cigarette into an ashtray that was already stuffed full with others. “Let me tell you, Elise, I always hoped you would find a nice girl to settle down with peacefully. Layla is not that girl for you. She doesn’t deserve you at all.”
The words were nothing new to Layla. She had been telling herself that for years, even before she turned.
Because what Saint had business with someone like Layla?
Back when they were children, Layla was just a girl trying to find solace in dance, one who happened to be born to parents adored by the Saints.
Elise saw something great in her that Layla never managed to see for herself.
As a reaper, it became even harder to see herself in any position of honor or love.
She had been taught, since turning, that she would have to earn good things.
Such was the way of reaperhood. Remade into a tragedy, forced to work for anything more.
Elise’s chest rose and fell quickly. Her lips twisted in frustration, and her brows bunched together as she thought.
Layla wondered what of. Whether she was worth defending to Tobias anymore.
While she sat, bound by chains in his study, covered in blood, proving to him that she was no more than the monster they all saw her as.
“I did not come here to hear what I deserve from you,” Elise said.
Tobias sat in his chair and regarded her with less retained hostility.
An impressed smile crossed his face. “Perhaps I underestimated your rightful presence as my heir. You could have done wonderful things, Elise. Give me a reason why I should not turn Layla in to the gang in exchange for my training bases back?”
Some time ago, those words might have delivered a gentleness to her battered heart.
All the old Elise had ever wanted was her father’s love and affection.
But it had come with limitations and conditions that she could never manage.
Now she faced him with a coldness that she had been trained to reserve only for reapers.
Elise shook her head. Layla sensed the quickening of her heart rate as her anxiety picked up.
The heiress let out a heavy breath and straightened her shoulders.
“The truth is I do not want to turn her in for my own selfish reasons. I do not want her to die because I care for her. I know, however, that you do not recognize such reasoning as legitimate. So I say we need Layla because she is integral to getting Josephine back. Since Josi was turned, she might only connect to another reaper.”
The spike in her blood pressure informed Layla Elise had told a lie. If Josi’s reaction to Layla had been any indication, the little girl certainly did not want to connect with her at all. But the lie seemed to work on Tobias, who leaned forward, nodding.
“If I can fix this, will you try again?” Elise asked.
Her father narrowed his eyes. “Try what?”
Elise swallowed hard. “To be a father and a leader. For Josi. We have reason to believe she’s being used to help distribute karma among blood houses, and we can save her from there.
But she will need you when she’s back. I don’t want to take her from you too, Father.
But I need you to promise me you can do the right things for her. ”
Tobias ran a shaky hand over his hair. He let out a rough breath, and before he even spoke, Layla knew a devastating blow was coming.
“You mistake my motivations, Elise. I do not wish to house a monster. If you get Josi, you are to fix her. You will not return her to me as a beast. Do you understand me?”
Layla’s fangs slid out at the threat in his voice. The rise of tears and helplessness in Elise’s eyes made her strain against the Saint chains, no matter the blood the burning metal drew from her wrists.
Elise nodded and blinked past her anguish. “Understood.”