Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
Nevaeh
“The key, Nevaeh honey,” says Dad. “No more games.”
He hasn’t put away his pistol. He’s clutching the weapon so casually as the man he just executed bleeds out on the floor.
Mom has the same air of casual indifference, casting aside the ropes she’s untied from my wrists and standing up straighter with an expectant stare.
I look between them both—these strangers who share my blood but it ends there—and feel an ache inside. How could it ever come to this? How could they be so greedy and money hungry this is what it would come to?
“Why?” I croak. “Why would you do this? Why get involved with Nero?”
Mom laughs as if the question is a joke, the sound cold and bitter. “Oh, Nevaeh. Still so naive. Still just a little girl inside, aren’t you, honey? You think we had a choice?”
“There’s always a choice—”
“We’ve been working toward this for years!” she snaps. “It’s been a long, hard road to get what we deserve, Nevaeh. You more than anyone should know how we’ve struggled! The way things are set up? The system in this city is designed to keep people like us in the gutter, no matter how hard we claw.”
“We were doomed unless we took matters in our own hands,” Dad adds, his eyes gleaming. “Until I got my position working for Nero and Zinc Co on their medical testing team. Then… then I finally had an opening.”
The pieces click together at once. “You stole it. That’s why Nero was after you!”
“I sure did,” he confirms with pride. “Without them knowing. Hid the key in your snow globe. I knew it would be safe until we could leverage it for profit.”
Mom grabs my arm roughly, her nails digging into my skin. “And now it’s time to collect.”
They drag me from the restaurant, my feet slipping in the slick blood of the dead men on the floor.
Outside, Matteo’s SUV sits waiting like a hearse. Dad rifles through the vehicle until he finds what he’s looking for—my snow globe, the one Matteo forced me to bring from Caelian’s estate.
“There it is,” Mom breathes, dark eyes alight with greed. “Our golden ticket.”
As they hold the globe up to the streetlight, examining it closely, the truth sinks in like heavy stones in my stomach.
They’ll do whatever it takes to profit from this, even if it means sacrificing me—their own daughter.
I was never their concern. I was just another asset to be leveraged when the time was right.
They shipped me off to the dance company to ensure their asses were covered; it didn’t matter what happened to me.
The drive through Dresden’s streets feels like a funeral procession. We pass through the industrial district where smokestacks pierce the night sky in thick plumes, then through the iron gates that separate the poor from the powerful.
My parents practically vibrate with excitement, chattering away in the front seat about the fabulous life they’re going to lead once they cash in and force Nero’s hand.
I sit in the back with the heavy pit in my stomach, thoughts a messy cross between hurt over their betrayal and yearning for Caelian.
He must be so confused if he’s discovered I’m missing. He might even think I’ve run away again.
I don’t even want to think about what Mom and Dad are planning once it’s all said and done. They haven’t been clear on where I fit into their world once their scheming pays off.
Nero’s palace rises before us, the largest house in the city. As we approach the gates, Dad frowns.
“Where are the guards?”
The gated entrance stands unmanned, the security booth empty. Bodies lie scattered across the cobblestones, face down in pools of blood.
“Someone’s already here,” Mom whispers.
We walk through the front doors to the echo of our own footsteps. Halfway down the foyer we hear it—raised voices coming from somewhere deep in the house, followed by what might be the scrape of furniture.
Mom and Dad exchange glances then grip their weapons tighter. I’m escorted through corridors lined with portraits of dead and alive Vorones alike, some sort of tribute by Nero to his family.
The dining room door stands open, warm light spilling into the hallway. We step inside to find a scene that stops my heart cold.
Caelian stands with his gun trained on Nero, who sits calmly at the head of a table set for kings. A blonde woman in a low-cut dress sits off to the side, eyes bouncing between both men like she’d prefer to be excused than endure the life-or-death standoff taking place.
“Well,” Mom says, grabbing hold of me and pressing me in front of her like a shield. “Looks like we’re just in time for the party. I was hoping this would go down the hard way.”
Caelian’s eyes find mine from across the room. A flicker of momentary relief passes over him, as if he’s grateful to see me alive and breathing.
Then the rage takes over. His features clench and the hardened animalistic look on his rugged face returns. He resembles a caged beast desperate to be released.
“We have what you want, Nero,” Dad announces, holding up the snow globe. “The key to your precious one-of-a-kind cure. All we ask is for fifty percent of the profits, and it’s yours.”
Nero’s left brow rises as if amused. “And here I thought dear Matteo was bringing me the girl. What happened to my loyal employee?”
“Ignazio killed him,” Mom answers, shrugging. “Then we killed Ignazio. Business is business.”
The tension in the room heightens to a new degree. Nero sets down his fork and rises from his chair, a sudden angry and predatory vibe about him.
“I should’ve known,” he says. “The grimy employees who thought they could betray me. Did you really think I wouldn’t figure out who stole from me?”
“We knew you would. We just didn’t give a damn.”
“Show me the key,” he demands. “Then I’ll consider your deal.”
Dad’s smile is triumphant as he moves toward the table clutching the snow globe in one hand and his pistol in the other. He pries open the snow globe’s base. Water, fake snow and glitter spill across Nero’s pristine white tablecloth.
He reaches inside, his fingers digging around the secret compartment for the tiny little object that’ll make him rich like he’s always dreamed.
His face goes slack with shock.
“What the fuck?” He turns the globe over, shaking it desperately. Nothing falls out but more snowflakes, more glitter. “Where is it? Where the fuck is it?”
“You were trying to pull off another scam,” Nero says dryly. “Why am I not surprised?”
Dad rounds on me, his face twisted with rage. “What did you do with it? Where is it?”
But I’m not looking at him. I’m looking at Caelian, who’s been watching the scene unfold with the patience of a predator waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
That moment comes all at once.
Caelian pivots, his gun swinging away from Nero to target Dad. The gunshot reverberates through the dining room like a crack of thunder. Dad’s body jerks forward as blood explodes from his back.
But Nero is faster than any of us anticipated. His weapon appears in his hand in one of the fastest draws I’ve ever witnessed, his finger curling around the trigger and squeezing tightly.
His shot sends a second deafening crack through the room.
The bullet takes Caelian in the chest, sending him staggering backward.