Chapter 14 The Wise Man’s Knife
I power off my phone before I reach Cornelius’s darkened office in the north wing. Sofia gave me a keycard after The Syndicate meeting.
When I asked her how she got it, she just smiled, her lavender scent perfuming the air, and said, “I have my ways.”
Elias had someone loop the cameras for five minutes to give me an opening so I could search for clues for Aria’s key.
Aleksei would’ve given me half an hour if he were here. Fuck him for betraying us and vanishing.
“Boom! And that’s why I’m a genius,” his voice rings in my head.
Damn, I miss him.
Our plan is simple: Elias works his network. Sebastian tracks the money. Sofia does God knows what. Tristan combs the fed database. Rafe reaches out to his contacts at Chicago Memorial for donor heart leads for Celia.
Offense and defense at the same time. Sloppy, but our best play.
Tugging up my ski mask, I slip inside the room and close the door behind me.
Flashlight perched in my mouth, I scan the surroundings. No tripwires or signs of hidden alarms.
I go to the mahogany desk first and rummage through the drawers.
Shipping contracts. Project proposals. Tariff lobbying documents.
Nothing useful.
Then I move to the laptop, sliding in the small USB Elias gave me that’ll plant a bug now and activate it the next time Cornelius logs in. If it works, the bug will crack the security layers and give us access to its hard drive.
It’s a very big if, and something Aleksei could probably dance around, but better than nothing.
Moving to the bookshelves, I scan the binders alphabetized by last name. The old fox loves his meticulous records.
My fingers skim the spines until I reach the C’s.
Sure enough, there’s a file on Aria, much more detailed than the kill brief he gave me.
My heart drops low. Even though I knew he’d have a file on her, I didn’t want to see it.
No one with a file ever makes it out alive.
And seeing Aria reduced to cold facts in black ink has something vicious rise in my throat. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without—
A low thud sounds from outside.
I snap the binder shut and slide underneath the desk as the door opens.
Bright light floods the room as someone steps inside while humming a song under her breath.
I freeze, my gun cocked and aimed.
Fuck whoever Elias hired after Aleksei. They must’ve given me the wrong cleaner schedule for the week.
Quietly, I lift my phone and scroll to the dial pad, pressing the number that’ll ring the north hallway antique phone.
Sure enough, it blares seconds later. The housekeeper grumbles, and her light footsteps soon drift away.
I quickly snap three photos of Aria’s file, replace the binder onto the bookshelf, yank out the USB from the laptop, and slip out of the room.
Sweat glistens on my forehead as I yank off the ski mask and replace it with my usual half mask. I shed the hoodie, roll it up, and stuff it into the nearest trash chute by the stairwell before climbing down to the first floor and exiting to the central courtyard.
I want to check on Celia before I swing by Arcana & Bloom to take over Sofia’s bodyguard shift.
An errant tremor hits my chest.
I will see Aria again tonight.
In person. In the light.
Not as a ghost in her apartment, watching her sleep, because spending more time with her during the day will only feed this crazed obsession in my blood.
In the dark, I can guard her without becoming real to her.
I’m not Ren then. She isn’t my mark. I don’t carry her dead fiancé’s heart inside my chest. I don’t hold a secret that’ll change how The Syndicate views me.
They’ll hate me. She’ll hate me.
I tell myself I care because I want to save her. She’s innocent.
That’s all there is to it.
“Celia is indisposed right now,” the guard in front of the Soul Court says, blocking my way. The full moon is swallowed by the thick clouds, cloaking everything in shadows. “Doctor said she needs to rest.”
Bullshit. I just texted her, and she was clearly awake.
“Move. Before I make you.”
He pales a smidgen but stands taller. Two more lackeys walk over, hands hovering over their holsters.
“I haven’t killed in a week, and I’m aching for it. You really shouldn’t piss me off.”
In seconds, I have my gun jammed into his abdomen.
Clicks resound. Twin barrels point at my face.
My lips twitch into a smile.
“Bad choice.”
Before they can blink, I spin around, twist the guard’s arm, and slam his head against the door.
With the first guard unconscious, I deliver a high kick to the chest of the second guard.
Down he goes.
“You know I have a black belt in every fucking thing you can think of, right?”
I face the third asshole.
The damn bastard shakes while holding his gun.
Useless prick.
“Want to see who can shoot fastest?” I aim the gun straight at the quivering asshole’s T-zone.
Blood leaches from his face, and he raises his hands in surrender.
“Now get out of my way.”
Slow applause rings through the courtyard.
“Ren, what did I say about being impulsive?” a familiar scratchy voice says from my right.
Exhaling slowly, I lower my gun. The third guard flees as Sir Tao steps under the lamplight.
At sixty-two, Sir Tao is my mentor, a retired Kong strategist, and Cornelius’s late father’s confidant. He took me under his wing after Dad died when I was eight and looked after us as Mom got progressively sicker years later.
“Impulsivity kills,” I sign and give him a curt bow.
He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And yet you never learn.”
“I’m stubborn.”
“That you are.” Sir Tao motions to the door. “Must you interrupt Celia’s sleep now? You know the routine. No visitors after ten.”
I stiffen. It’s ridiculous to need a timetable to visit my sister. Things weren’t like this when Mom was alive, but after she died and Celia’s condition deteriorated, the Kongs instituted this hospital rule.
“Cornelius just wants what’s best for you.” Sir Tao leads me away from Soul Court to the south wing, where our residences are.
“He wants to keep me on my toes.”
“Keep you both alive, you mean.”
“To serve him.” I glance at the old man. “Why do you stay? You’re retired, richer than Midas. You can leave.”
“I’m used to the lifestyle. It’s familiar.”
“But is that enough? Imprisoned within these four walls because it’s familiar? You’re free now. You don’t need to be at Cornelius’s beck and call.”
“Don’t be insolent.” Sir Tao jerks me to a stop. “The walls have ears…or in your case, cameras.”
He leads me into the tearoom on the first floor and spends the next five minutes rinsing the jade kettle, then the tea leaves for the first pour, then a second pour, before finally handing me a cup of Yunnan Pu-erh tea.
“You’re troubled,” he says after taking a sip.
“Cornelius sent me on a mission but didn’t give me all the info.”
The old man chuckles. “Probably for your own good. The less you know, the easier it is for you to kill. Information makes you attached, and attached men hesitate. The price of that would be your life.”
My fingers tighten around the cup.
Flashes of her appear in my mind—a dimpled smile, thick dark hair with rebellious streaks of red.
Aria wants to break rules. Live. Be free.
She has the softest skin, the strangest humor, and the most beautiful smile.
And I’m meant to snuff out her light.
I swallow, letting the hot tea scald my throat. Ignoring the burn, I let it wash over me.
“Do you know anything about a key? Something Cornelius needs badly enough to put a ten-million-dollar bounty on it?”
Scratching his salt-and-pepper beard, Sir Tao shakes his head. “I’ve been out of the loop for a long time now. They don’t tell me anything anymore.”
“Their fucking loss. You helped build this empire.”
“I’m old and tired.” Leaning forward, he clasps my knee. “Know this, son. Don’t get attached to any of your marks.”
“I’m not—”
“I see it in your eyes. The conflict. Whoever this person is, kill them before they make you forget who feeds you.”
Frustration bites under my ribs, and I hide it by glancing at the moon peeking out from behind the clouds.
“If men will pay ten million dollars for something,” Sir Tao murmurs, “it’s never just about the money. And the key? Answers won’t stay buried for long.”
A raven soars high in the sky.
Solitary and free. But alone. Always alone.
“Your mother asked me to take care of you before she passed.” Sir Tao sets his cup down. “The Kongs treat you well—better than any soldiers who’ve ever walked through these halls. Remember that. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Don’t forget our motto: bu liu huo kou.”
No loose strings. No mouths left alive.
He adds, “Don’t become a liability. Your mother made that mistake once. It cost her.”
I whirl toward him.
But the old man is already striding away before I can ask what he means.
He leaves me in the quiet room with the moonlight as my company, my mind filled with images of Mom in her healthier days, setting new koi fish in the pond, of Aria and Celia, innocent women whose fates are determined by what I do next.
The bitter tea cools on my tongue as I pull out my phone and swipe to the photo I took earlier in Cornelius’s office.
I stiffen.
Then I zoom in.
Tea sloshes from the cup onto my hand, but I barely notice.
Name: Aria Elizabeth Connors
Occupation: Nurse
Family: Deceased except for the mother.
Late fiancé, Blake Amscot, a cardiothoracic surgeon at Amscot Heart Clinic and Chicago Memorial Hospital.
Killed by a stray bullet in the Berisha shootout.
Stray bullet.
The cup clatters onto the table.
The Kongs don’t know why he died.
How is that possible?
If this is the truth, then I’ve been in the dark all along.
This changes…everything.