Chapter Twenty Eight, Siblings #2
She stared at me for a moment, like she couldn’t believe I was real, then let me pull her out of the room. Her hand was cold in mine, her grip tight and desperate as I led her back into the hall.
She didn’t let go of her knife.
“Stay here,” I mumbled, turning to face her as my mind went a million miles an hour. “I’ll fix this.”
Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but she only nodded, her shoulders slumping as I stepped away.
I went back into the room, my heart pounding as I moved toward the bed. The boy stirred slightly, mumbling something in his sleep, but he didn’t wake as I carefully picked him up. He was so small his weight was almost nothing in my arms.
As I carried him toward the master bedroom, Kenji appeared from the shadows, his sharp eyes narrowing at the sight of the boy.
“Change of plans,” I murmured.
Kenji stared at me for a moment, then nodded silently, falling into step beside me. He was the least of my concerns, regardless of what I planned.
I knew he wanted out of our life just as much as I did.
When we reached the bedroom, he moved first, disarming Viktor Mancini with practiced ease. The mob boss woke with a start, his hand darting for a weapon that wasn’t there.
“Don’t,” I said calmly, holding his son out to him in a warning that made him still.
Going against every rule The Company had, I explained everything—the hit, the betrayal from his second in command, the fact that we weren’t going to carry it out.
His hard expression softened when I handed him the boy, his hands trembling slightly as he held his son close.
Within minutes, at my behest, he’d woken his wife, gathered their things, and disappeared into the night.
He was off home, to deal with the snake in his nest and find a way to protect the precious boy I could see he truly loved. A way to keep him hidden from the world and dead as far as anyone else was concerned.
Honey found me as I left the room, her face pale and tight with nerves as she tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “Silver told me what happened,” she breathed. “What are we supposed to say when we get back to the compound?”
I met her gaze evenly as my thoughts stopped racing, and the only idea that worked moved front and center. “Nothing. Because we’re dead. We’re not going back.”
Her soft brow furrowed. “What?”
I turned to face her and Kenji fully, my voice steady and sure. “This boat is going to blow up like we planned. But we’re on it when it does. From this moment on, all of us are dead.”
Honey’s hands trembled slightly, her usual confidence faltering. “Atlas… The Company doesn’t just let people go. They’ll come for us.”
“Not if they think we’re gone,” I said firmly. “This is our only way out. Do you trust me?”
She hesitated, then nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. Kenji didn’t need to be convinced—he just nodded once, his expression grim but resolute.
After a quick call to Deacon, summoning him for his aid with forged documents, we trashed the yacht, setting it up to look like the scene of a bloody hit gone wrong. When the fire started to spread, we stepped onto the dock, the heat of the flames licking at our backs.
I didn’t think about anything. Anything other than freedom. Keeping my sister safe.
About not letting a person I loved be punished for something she should never have been made to do.
Silver was waiting, her face streaked with tears. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly as we watched the yacht burn, the flickering light casting shadows across the water and making our reflections look distorted.
Look evil.
This was it. Our lives—our old lives—were gone.
And for the first time in years, as I looked at my own reflection, I didn’t hate it. I didn’t feel like it was part of my cage.
I felt free.
For a few minutes after I recounted that night, Danika remained silent. Finally, she broke the silence, setting her mug down and fixing her gaze on me with a pointed look.
“You did it for Silver.” She said. “Like I thought.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Because you love her.”
“Yes.” She already knew that, so I didn’t understand why she would care to ask me again.
“It’s nice to know you can be a loyal brother.” Something strange flickered in her eyes. “But fine. Consider me appeased. Now onto the final thing.” She reached a hand into her pocket, withdrawing a knife as she grabbed a gun from underneath the couch cushion with her other hand.
“What are you doing?” My head cocked, trying to work out what she was doing.
“Playing a game.” She threw the knife onto the coffee table in front of Gio. “Pick it up,” she said, her voice calm but laced with something that sent a chill crawling up my spine.
Gio blinked, his brow furrowing slightly. “What?”
“The knife,” Danika said, her tone like a teacher explaining something to a particularly slow student. “Pick it up.”
He hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the blade and then to me. I didn’t move, keeping my expression carefully neutral. Danika was watching him closely, her eyes narrowed, waiting.
She moved her finger to the trigger. “Now, Reaper.”
With a tense jaw, he leaned forward and grabbed the knife, his fingers curling around the handle tightly.
“Good,” she said, leaning back against the couch. “Now stab Atlas.”
Gio froze, his knuckles white as he gripped the knife. His head whipped toward her, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “What?”
She tilted her head, the corner of her mouth twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You heard me. Stab Atlas.” She picked up her gun, resting it casually on her thigh, the barrel pointed toward Gio. “Or I’ll shoot you. And not with a current, but with a very real bullet.”
“You’re insane,” he spat, his anger cracking through the shock.
Danika’s face didn’t change. She didn’t laugh, didn’t sneer—just stared at him like he was nothing more than an insect under a magnifying glass. Then, with a quiet click, she flipped the safety off her gun.
“I’m not joking, Giovanni,” she said. “Do it.”
His breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling as he glanced between her and me, the knife trembling slightly in his grip. “No,” he said finally, his voice firm.
Danika sighed, shaking her head as if she were disappointed. “Wrong answer.” She lifted the gun just slightly, angling it toward his chest, and her voice dropped. “You have three seconds.”
“Gio,” I said, cutting through the tension. My voice was calm, steady, even as my pulse thundered in my ears. He looked at me, his expression twisted with a mix of anger and panic.
“It’s fine,” I said quietly, my eyes locking onto his. I’d been stabbed before. I could handle it. It was fine. “Just do it.”
His head shook violently, the knife clattering against the side of his knee as his hand trembled. “I’m not stabbing you, Atlas.”
“She’ll kill you,” I said, my voice soft but firm.
“I don’t care,” he snapped, his voice breaking slightly.
He dropped the knife onto the coffee table with a sharp clatter, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot as Danika snatched it back up before I could.
“Go ahead and shoot me. I’m not stabbing him, and I’m not continuing to play your sadistic fucking games. ”
The tension in the room was unbearable, the silence stretching long and taut like a wire about to snap. Danika didn’t move her finger, resting lightly on the trigger as her eyes flicked between Gio and me.
And then, to my surprise, she laughed.
It wasn’t a full laugh, more like a sharp exhale, but it was enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Well, well,” she said, leaning back and crossing her legs again, her gun resting loosely in her hand. “You passed the test, De Luca. Nice to know you’re not a selfish shithead like your daddy.”
Gio’s shoulders sagged slightly, the tension bleeding out of him as he glared at her. “You’re insane,” he muttered again.
She smirked, her gaze drifting toward me. “And you,” she said, her tone almost amused. “You really were just going to let him stab you, huh?”
I didn’t respond. She already knew my answer.
Her smirk widened slightly, and she stood, smoothing down her jacket. “Alright, boys. Upstairs. Now.”
I glanced at Gio, his brow furrowing as he stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “What?” he said.
“You heard me,” Danika said, her voice sharp. “Go back to your room and stay there. Let me think.”
“Not happening,” I said flatly, my voice cutting through the silence.
Her head snapped toward me, her expression hardening. Without a word, she raised her gun and pulled the trigger.
The bullet slammed into the wall behind me, missing my head by inches. The sound was deafening in the small room, the sharp crack ringing in my ears as my pulse spiked.
“I am not playing, Atlas,” she said, her voice ice-cold. “Get your ass back in that room before I decide you don’t need a head anymore. I need a moment to fucking think.”
For a moment, neither of us moved, the air between us crackling with tension. Then I stood, keeping my movements slow, and turned toward the hallway.
Gio followed, his footsteps heavy as we made our way back upstairs. Neither of us spoke until we were back in the room, the door closing with a quiet click behind us.
I leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly as I rubbed a hand over my face. He paced the room, his hands still shaking slightly, his expression stormy.
“She really is fucking insane,” he muttered. “I don’t understand how you ever cared for her.”
“She’s testing us,” I said, pretending that I hadn’t loved the same woman he found horrid, or that it didn’t hurt me just a little. “And you passed.”
He stopped pacing, turning to look at me. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.
We both knew that, for now, we were still alive.
And we were going to get ourselves out of here before Danika changed her mind. I’d grown bored with her games.