Chapter 32
Priest
I watched it burn.
The security feed flickered on the small screen in the safe room, the flames swallowing the house I'd bought for Miyori, the house I'd filled with her things, the house where Ezra took his first steps.
It was nothing now. Ash, smoke, and twisted metal.
I was glad I'd told Miyori to leave—to take the kids to my father's estate. Nobody outside the family knew where it was, and she had enough bodyguards to fight a war. But watching the fire eat through the walls, I felt something cold settle in my chest.
This wasn't random.
Somebody had firebombed my house—and Kael's warehouse full of guns, both in the same night. That wasn't a coincidence. That was a message.
I sat in the dark of the safe room, phone pressed to my ear, listening to the others on the line. The room was small and concrete, containing nothing but a desk, a chair, and the glow of the security monitors.
We ruled out Cooly. He'd made it clear: if he shot Malachai, he'd claim it. He wasn't the type to hide behind firebombs and shadows.
We ruled out Darius. He didn't have the reach, the money, or the connections. He was a street-level problem, not a strategic threat.
We ruled out Indigo's brother. Zaire was fighting a war with the Russians. He was barely surviving; he wouldn't start one with us.
Malachai's hits were ruled out, too. Why come after all of us? Why spread the violence?
"We're missing something," Caine's voice crackled through the speaker.
"Obviously," I muttered.
Kael was quiet on the line. I could picture him sitting in his own dark room, watching the same flames I was watching, thinking the same thing I was thinking.
Whoever did this knew us. Knew our patterns. Knew where we lived, where we worked, where we kept our weapons.
"Gather the women and kids," I said finally.. Send them to them to your father’s estate.. Nobody it’s there."
"Already moving," Caine said.
"Malachai's been moved to a private hospital," Kael added. "I made sure of it."
I nodded, even though no one could see me. "Good."
We went quiet for a moment.
Then Caine spoke again. "What do you think we're dealing with?"
I watched the flames lick at what was left of my house.
"I don't know," I said. "But whoever it is, I have a feeling they're not done."