Chapter 20 Giovanni
GIOVANNI
The docks are quieter tonight.
Not empty. Never empty. Just subdued, like the city is holding its breath. Water laps against concrete pilings, dark and oily, carrying voices farther than they should. I keep my hands in my coat pockets as I walk, unhurried, eyes scanning reflections instead of faces.
He’s already there.
Leaning against a rusted bollard, hood up, cigarette burning down between his fingers. He doesn’t look at me when I stop a few feet away. Doesn’t need to. He knows exactly who’s standing there.
“How’s the work going?” I ask.
He exhales smoke slowly. “As expected.”
No names. No greetings. We’ve always spoken like this when it mattered.
“You’re still not at the head,” I say.
“Not yet.” He flicks ash into the water. “The snake’s got layers. I’m close, but not close enough. I need time.”
“That’s fine,” I reply. And I mean it. This was never meant to be quick.
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone, bringing up the photo I asked Amber to send me before I can second-guess myself.
I hold it out.
“In the meantime,” I say, “I want you to keep an eye out for someone.”
He finally looks at the screen.
And goes very still.
His cigarette drops from his fingers, hissing as it hits the damp concrete.
“Where did you get that?” he asks.
I watch his face carefully now. “You know her?”
He swears under his breath, runs a hand through his hair, hood falling back to reveal his face. Lorenzo. My second.
Gone for two years by design.
“I thought you knew,” he says. “Neri reached out about this. That’s why I asked for the meet.”
I brace myself for whatever he’d say next. She’s dead, buried. Whatever it is, I am ready to take it, and find a way for Amber to do so too.
“I’ll send my updates your way.” Nico’s voice echoes in my ear. “You’ll know ‘em when you see ‘em.”
“The woman in the picture,” Lorenzo continues speaking in his usual cold, calm manner, “she’s Georg Pavlov’s wife.”
The docks seem to tilt.
“His what?”
“Not by choice,” he adds quickly. “Word is, he kidnapped her three years ago. Lifted her right off the street. Since his brother was supposed to marry rich—to marry a Lark—Georg decided he could have whatever he wanted. Then, when Anton’s marriage didn’t happen, he kept his own under wraps just in case.
” Lorenzo’s brow darkens. “But that’s unmistakably her. Coral.”
Coral.
Amber’s sister.
Alive.
And married to the enemy.
Lorenzo looks at me now the way he used to before everything went dark—waiting for direction, for judgment, for permission.
“I came to ask you for a way to extract her,” he says.
“She’s miserable there, boss. I—” His voice catches for half a second before he steadies himself.
“I want to pull her out of that life. I was working on it on my own time, but when Neri said you had an interest…” He exhales.
“I need the strength of our family. Of the Gallo family.”
I slip my phone back into my pocket, my jaw tightening as the full shape of it settles in.
Two years ago, I told Lorenzo to disappear. To cut ties so completely even I wouldn’t be able to find him unless he wanted to be found. To bury himself inside the family that posed the greatest long-term threat.
He chose the Pavlovs.
As it turns out, he chose right. The Pavlovs are at the root of every Bratva incursion in New York City that happened in the past few years. They’re behind everything.
And if Georg took Coral, this isn’t just a turf war anymore. It’s personal.
“Can you do it?” I ask. “Extract her?”
“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “But once I move, everything accelerates.”
I think of Amber. Of the way she looked at Rose in that hospital bed. Of the wreckage in her apartment. Of the red letters on the wall.
“We’re doing this,” I say. “But we do it clean. And she doesn’t know yet.”
Lorenzo nods. “Understood.”
The water slaps against the pylons again, louder now, impatient.
I step back. “Stay alive.”
He gives a grim smile. “You too, boss.”
I turn and walk away before either of us can say anything else.
For the first time since the docks, I let myself believe it.
We’re going to bring her home.
“Oh, boss. One more thing.”
Lorenzo hands me a picture.
“This is the man they sent after Amber. They know she’s still looking for her sister. Georg isn’t happy. He’s held off killing her until now because Coral begged him to, but I think he’s going to do something. Especially now that Anton’s too dead to stop him from being reckless.”
I take the picture. My mind fills with white noise at the thought of Amber in danger. “When?”
“Tonight. And he’s using this guy for it.”
I glance at the picture.
In it is a man. Cropped hair, black suit jacket and pants…
“Cazzo.”
… and a red dress shirt.