Chapter 52
GAbrIEL
We were waiting for a lead on Emberline when a boat cut across the water, expensive and sleek, moving like a black bullet.
“What the fuck is this?” I muttered.
“That’s the Demente emblem on the hull,” Nico observed, one foot braced on the dock as we watched it approach, heading straight toward us.
Since I hadn’t been able to get a bead on her through our blood bond, I’d sent my father’s vast network of spies—now my spies—out into the city to beat down doors and trade secrets. I’d offered a million pieces of gold for her location, so they were motivated.
We expected something within the hour.
Beside me, I sensed my brother’s restless impatience as Rocco’s boat pulled up to the dock, Nico positioning himself in front of me like a shield. “Not taking any chances,” he murmured, checking the safety on his weapon.
We weren’t expecting company tonight, not with Marcello’s body still warm, yet Rocco Demente stepped smoothly onto my island like he owned the place.
His long coat hung heavy from his shoulders, dark fabric almost brushing against the stone as he moved with unhurried confidence. No visible escort tonight, so he’d left his guards at home. Or my brother had roasted all the bastards on that island during the carnage.
“Gabriel,” Rocco greeted, his voice carrying as he walked up to us, the empty boat knocking against the seawall, two of my soldiers hurrying to tie it off.
I didn’t step forward. Didn’t offer the same courtesy to an unannounced visitor—one who was, most likely, our enemy. But in my world, there was a thin line between enemies and allies, and often, patience was all that stood between the two.
“Rocco,” I returned flatly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Dante pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against, arms falling loose at his sides as he studied Rocco. Nothing out of the ordinary—the same gloating smirk, same silver-tipped cane, same casual, ancient arrogance.
Rocco’s gaze flicked to him briefly, taking him in. The too-tight clothes. The fact that he was alive and not a prisoner in the Fossa.
“Dante, good to see you out and about.” Something like approval crossed his face. “I knew nothing could keep you down for long.”
“You’re either overly confident,” Dante said, voice carrying, “or a fucking fool, coming here, given the situation.”
By now, Rocco would know the Basin was gone. Chances were, he also knew Giovanni was tearing the city apart looking for the relic. And since those were his guards at the scene, he knew who took it.
His mouth twitched. “I’ve been called both. Hard to say which one is more accurate. Given the day, let’s go with a fucking fool, since I’ve come to offer my assistance. I heard you’ve gotten yourselves in over your heads.”
I didn’t expect him to reveal his hand so quickly, but I was all about speeding this bullshit up.
All I could focus on was Emberline and the fact that no matter what Giovanni did to her, she had nothing to confess. And I knew what happened when a prisoner wouldn’t talk.
Fuck. I focused harder on that faint hum inside me of Emberline’s blood, following it out and out and out… northward… where it trailed off into nothing.
“I’m not here to fight,” Rocco explained, holding up his hands as Dante loomed over him. “I came to prevent an all-out war, which does us no good.”
Like my brother, violence pressed close beneath my skin, sharp and restless, but I kept my baser instincts leashed. Why was this fucker here, sniffing around so soon after Marcello’s death?
“We’re having a busy night, Rocco,” I cut in. “Say what you came to say.”
Rocco’s attention shifted back to me, the faint humor draining from his expression when he spotted the gold signet ring on my finger. So, he hadn’t known my father was gone.
Interesting.
“I see congratulations are in order… Don Gabriel.” He dipped his head.
“But yes, I should get to the point. I tire of playing Giovanni’s games,” he said plainly.
“Of dealing with his endless delusions of grandeur. He means to ruin us all, and I, for one, quite like my empire operating just the way it is.”
Silence followed that statement, all of us measuring how much of that was a lie.
Dante let out a quiet breath through his nose, along with a stream of smoke. “That’s so?”
Rocco’s focus stayed on me. “This plan of his—this obsession with the Basin, with controlling everyone—it’s gone beyond strategy into madness.”
“It was never about strategy,” I countered. “It was always about dominance, which you should have recognized from the beginning.”
Rocco bristled slightly. “Nevertheless, it’s gotten out of hand.”
“You’ve been playing along for centuries,” Dante shifted the subject. “Why the cold feet now, when you’re so close to succeeding?”
“Because Giovanni intends to use the Basin to enslave us, and I have no desire,”—Rocco’s voice dropped—“to spend whatever time I have left under that fucker’s thumb.”
My brother’s sharp, humorless laugh cut through the tension.
“Imagine that.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and I thought the shirt was going to explode at the seams. “All it took to change your mind was discovering you’d end up like the rest of us. It’s almost like you didn’t see that coming.”
Rocco studied him, something unreadable settling behind his eyes. “Careful,” he said mildly. “I’m still a Pentarch head and well above your pay grade.”
Dante smiled, baring just enough fang to make it clear he didn’t give a shit about the warning or the status. “Why? You gonna betray me, too?”
“That depends.” Rocco looked him up and down, smirking at the borrowed clothes. “Are you worth betraying?”
Nico let out a quiet breath. “We don’t have time for games, Rocco. You came here for a reason. Get to it.”
Rocco’s attention shifted back to him, tension easing by a fraction.
“I want Giovanni buried,” he said. “I want him off the council, and I do not wish to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.”
“And you think we don’t?” Dante shot back.
“I think you do.” Rocco tapped his cane hollowly on the dock. “I also think you don’t have the full picture.”
My gaze narrowed slightly. “Then enlighten us.”
Rocco exhaled slowly, like he was weighing exactly how much to give away.
“Giovanni isn’t just planning to rule the council,” he explained. “He’s aligning himself with something far older. An ancient influence that doesn’t care about our traditions, our alliances, or our rules.”
Blackwood. It had to be.
“And you want out,” I said quietly. “While your head is intact. Even though you’ve played his game up until now and made him into what he is. If that’s not a traitor to the cause, I don’t know what is.”
“Can you blame me?” Rocco spread his hands in supplication. “I want him gone, but I’m not strong enough to do it myself. But together…” His dark gaze drifted over the three of us. “Together, we can stop him, and this Dynasty can go back to the way it was.”
“We know what you did, Rocco.” Dante stepped closer. “And what makes you think we won’t just kill you tonight and solve part of the problem ourselves?”
Rocco didn’t flinch.
“Because I know where your woman is,” he admitted. “And I can help you get her back.”
My gaze flicked to Dante briefly, a silent question. He gave a single nod.
“You help us find her, and we’ll let you in our circle,” I offered. “But betray us, and I swear to the gods, I will take your head with pleasure.”
Rocco shot me an assessing look, and I just smiled, all teeth.
“I’ve spent my entire life preparing for this moment, and now that the title is mine, you’ll find I’m every bit as ruthless as my father was.
” I met his eyes. “More ruthless, because if we don’t get Emberline back untouched, unscathed, and in one piece, I will fucking burn the entire council chamber down, with you inside it. ”
“And I’ll lock the doors so none of you fuckers walk away,” Dante added smoothly.
“You backed the wrong side. Now you’re trying to survive, but survival comes at a cost. A cost I determine. A price you will pay, in blood, if you cross us.”
I didn’t trust Rocco. But if he knew where Ember was, we needed him.
Evidently, my brother came to the same conclusion, dragging a hand down his face, exhaling slowly. “Fine,” he said. “You want to help? Then we need details. Protections, weaknesses—and you can start with the location.”
Nico hadn’t taken his eyes off Rocco, using his Truthteller magic to sort through emotions, tells, and body language to see if he was lying. Finally, he gave me a shallow nod.
Rocco passed the test, and he’d better talk fast because every second we wasted here was another second Emberline suffered at Giovanni’s hands.
Alone.