Epilogue
DANTE
No warning.
After all the money I sank into informants—all the careers I supported and financed through the Empire City Police Department—you’d think someone would have had the decency to warn me before the FBI raided the first of my warehouses back in Empire City.
They didn’t.
Everything that happened after was pure chaos. A blur of phone calls, shouted orders, and frantic updates as my men on the ground scrambled to move product to safer locations, to reach our contacts in the city government, to figure out what the fuck was happening.
Then another warehouse was hit.
And another.
It’s almost poetic. I’d worked so hard to keep Alec’s attention focused on Sydney while I dismantled everything he’s built in this godforsaken city, and while I was distracted, he pulled the same trick on me.
I’m almost proud.
In just over a day, I lost seventy percent of my entire organization. Seventy percent of what I’ve spent the last few years rebuilding from ashes. All that remains are my offshore accounts and foreign investments.
The offshore accounts, and this—what little I’ve managed to take control of here in Fortune City. Thirty percent of my organization and a handful of warehouses, a few defunct businesses, and two decrepit old mansions north of the city border.
No matter. Empires can be rebuilt.
But they won’t be able to put their woman back together after I get a hold of her.
It was a mistake, bringing her ex into this.
Chase was more of a liability than an asset.
For a man who said he knew his ex inside and out, better than anyone, he sure failed to get into her head.
All those scare tactics of his were more appropriate for a haunted house.
Dead flowers? Notes? A small near miss in a shitty car?
This is all I get after the heavy sum I paid for his services? What a waste of time and money.
Embarrassing.
Not that the professionals I hired were any better. Rocco never checked in after breaking into her apartment. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’s currently rotting in a shallow grave.
Fine.
It just goes to show that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.
I glance over at the girl slumped in the chair. A pity Sydney hadn’t been at work tonight. But no matter, this one makes an effective plan B.
“Good,” I tell her, after I take the cell phone from her ear and end the call.
I give her an affectionate pat on the head, like a dog.
She flinches and jerks away from me. There’s blood in her hair, staining the dyed red a deep crimson.
And the way she’s cradling her arm against her chest tells me it’s broken. “You did good.”
There are tears streaming down her face when she raises her head to glare at me.
It will take them a while to realize she’s missing. Enough time to sow discontent between them all. Enough time for me to get Annika out of here, to send her back to Empire City, where she’ll be safe.
But once they realize I have Sydney’s little friend?
Ah.
That’s when the real fun will begin.