Chapter 21

"How are you feeling?" I asked Milla as we turned down the isolated road leading to the Attano Estate. She had changed out of the bloody clothes the watchman ruined, opting for a pair of warm leggings and a crimson sweater that hung to her mid-thigh. She still wore my coat, claiming she'd never been tolerant of Lynchaven's winters.

She bit her bottom lip as she stared out a frosted window. "Just anxious to see everyone."

I squeezed the hand cupping her knee, thankful the carriage bench was wide enough to allow me to sit beside her. Her curls were pulled up into a neat updo on top of her head, allowing me a flattering view of her slender neck.

"Understandable, though there's nothing to be concerned about. They missed you very much, Milla. Nonna especially missed you in the kitchen. Hasn't let us forget how incompetent the rest of us are when it comes to a stove."

Her lips tipped in a smirk. "How is she?"

"Old."

"Nico, really," she said, smiling fully.

I sighed. "I think the years are starting to catch up to her. She's not as sprightly as she used to be. Hasn't fussed at me since the day you were taken, and I've given her plenty to raise hell over."

Her smile fell. "That's not good," she mumbled. "Maybe she's just... tired. I don't know. She can't be dying. Not yet."

"No, princess. Not yet. I'm sure she'll live to torment us for many years to come."

Milla only nodded hesitantly, letting her gaze fall back to the passing landscape outside the car. "You hired more guns." Not a question, but an observation, noting the men behind the iron fence returning her assessment.

"Not a damn squirrel will pass by unnoticed on the property. The house is completely impenetrable. You'll never have to question your safety here."

"What about the rest of the Row?"

Just thinking about her leaving the boundary of the property triggered my heart rate. But I couldn't lock her up forever, no matter how much I wished I could. "With the right escorts, the Row as well."

The carriage slowed as the asphalt turned to gravel. Milla sucked a long breath when she saw the house, not bothering to wipe the tears that slid down her flushed cheeks.

This. This moment made every sleepless night, every bullet to the back, every day full of plotting her rescue worth it. I grabbed her hand and kissed it, savoring the connection. "Welcome home, my love."

She blinked and glanced at me, as if surprised by something I'd said. But before I could dismiss the slip, the car parked near the east entrance, and my family quickly snatched her attention as they waited outside.

"I sent Gideon ahead to brief them," I explained. "I'll let you get out first. Esme looks like she's going to combust if she has to wait a second longer."

She placed a hand around my arm. "Nico, wait, I want to tell you something first."

"What is it?"

"I wanted to tell you that I'm..." Her lips wavered on a thought. "I'm so grateful to have you and your family, and not just because you saved me from Hightower. You saved me long before I ever knew I needed to be rescued."

My hand slipped up and down her thigh. "You didn't need anyone to save you, princess. Not then, and not now. But the Attanos will be here whenever you need to be reminded."

"Well," she drawled, "sometimes I can be very stubborn."

Understatement of the century, but I didn't tell her that. "No. You're just perfect, Milla."

The tip of her chin invited my lips to meet hers, and I crashed into them with a driving kiss. My hand slid up her thigh, wishing I had her alone already. When she kissed me like this, slipped her palm around my neck, it made me feel like the only man in the world. Her touch shattered reality with its all-consuming snatch, and nothing existed but her.

She crossed her right leg over her left just as my fingers slipped beneath the hem of her sweater, locking my wrist above the apex of her thighs. My grip dug into her leggings, wishing I could strip them off, feel the heat of her skin as it permeated through the material—

Three knocks banged loudly on the window.

"You can kiss her later, Nico! Open the door!" Esme shouted through the glass.

Milla laughed against my lips, about to move away until I kissed her harder, using my free hand to pull the blinds shut and block out my nosy cousin.

The sound of a door unlocking broke us both apart—fucking metal locks.

Esme's conniving face appeared in the carriage; a bright grin stretched across her cheeks. "Camilla! Don't make me bend this car out of shape just to get to you—"

My cousin didn't have time to finish her threat before Milla was out of her seat. By the time I made it out of the carriage myself, they were wrapped in an embrace so fierce, I might have lost my other hand if I tried to break them apart.

I hung back, watching from a distance as my aunts took their turn, one by one, welcoming Milla home where she belonged. The side driveway quickly became filled with murmurs of happy reunions and sniffles from their tears. My uncle, however, approached me first, leaning a little more than usual on his cane. Winter made his already terrible knees that much worse.

He said nothing at first, only threw an arm around me in an embrace I hadn't been expecting. He released me just as quickly, clearing his throat. "Gideon briefed us before heading back to the warehouse to help with the rescued prisoners. Saints, Nico. We're all so thankful it went so well."

"Not for Regulus," I murmured, who was most likely dead by now.

Solomon nodded slowly, as if remorseful. "It is unfortunate to hear about the shifter, but you couldn't have foreseen a betrayal so close. We'll figure the rest out, Nico."

I nodded sharply, though I didn't quite agree. I should have suspected something when the getaway went too smoothly.

"I've always made known my reservations, but I'm so damn proud of you, Nicolai. Your father—" He looked away toward where another carriage approached.

Adler drove the Marcheses back, stopping just long enough to let them out before he was peeling down the driveway, back to the industrial park to assist the rest of my cousins.

I ignored whatever else my uncle said. Instead, I focused on Aramis and his brother and how they looked at Milla with her new family—the odd resentment the scene planted in his pale gaze. He must have felt my glare, the way his eyes shifted to me then.

"Did you hear me?" Sol asked.

"I'm sorry." I shook my head. "You said something about the aunts?"

"Yes, after they finish saying hello, they're going to help the boys at the warehouse get everything settled. Fran can notify the families, since she knows practically everyone."

"Good plan. I've been ordered to take the night off, but we'll see how long that lasts."

My uncle scoffed before patting me on the shoulder. "Enjoy these moments, Nico. These days, they come few and far between. One day, you'll look back and wish you hadn't prioritized work over family." He pivoted on his better leg and started back toward the house.

"Where's Nonna?" Milla asked.

Fran tucked a fallen strand of golden-brown hair behind Milla's ear. "Upstairs. She isn't feeling well today, but she's still expecting you to visit as soon as possible."

Milla turned to me then, her hand extended to me. "Come with me?"

I'd have taken it no matter where she led me. To the end of the fucking realm, if that's where she was going, I'd follow. Perhaps Solomon and Luther were right. Maybe it was just as important to steal sweet moments with her when I could, just as much as constantly trying to fight for a future full of them.

Taking her hand in my false one, I leaned close to murmur in her ear, "Only if I get to take you to my room after."

She smiled without looking at me. "You have yourself a deal, Attano."

My grandmothergradually smothered any arousal heating my blood as she made us sit with her for the next three hours, Milla next to her in the much-too-large bed, as she listed off every shameful memory of mine since I was old enough to embarrass her.

"There was a time when Nico was an absolute menace to society," Nonna went on. "Poor child couldn't keep his hands to himself. He was a little thief everywhere we went. Stole a woman's pearls right off her face without her knowing, charmed her with that darling face to distract her. Gave them to his mother as a gift for her birthday. Do you remember what she told you, Nicky?"

I sighed. "That I was a very naughty child, and the Society was going to come take me away. I thought she'd been rather ungrateful."

Nonna looked at my wife, a devious gleam in her eye. "He barricaded himself in his room for three days. Scared him sick."

Milla bit her lip, trying to leash her laughter.

She rambled on, her memory sharp as a whip, about the time I got my "abnormally large for my age" head stuck between the bannisters of the west wing stairs. How I called my muscles "muffins" for a solid two years because of a lisp.

"When he was twelve, I caught him reading my dirty romance books in his room at night."

"You knew?" I asked.

Milla's brows nearly flew off her head.

"Of course I knew," she said with a wave of her hand. "You thought you were so sneaky, lurking around in my room like I wouldn't notice my missing books. Esme was too young for me to suspect her, though now, I wish I would have snuck a few onto her shelves."

"Nonna!" Esme said, exasperated.

"And you let me keep reading them?" I asked, absolutely mortified my grandmother had known what I read late at night in my room—and inadvertently encouraged it by not interfering.

She shrugged. "What? It was the safest way for a boy to learn about the birds and the bees. I figured your future wife would thank me for it." She looked at Milla. "Were my intuitions incorrect, Belladonna?"

"Don't answer that," I told her.

Nonna glared at me, but thankfully dropped the subject. At this point, I'd gladly welcome any reason to get out of this room. My silent pleading paid off when our butler, Grimm, knocked on Nonna's half-open bedroom door.

"What is it?" I asked.

"A message for you, Mr. Attano. Just arrived from the station."

I stood to take the note from his hand. "Thank the saints."

The envelope was unmarked. The note inside was little more than folded scrap paper, lacking a salutation to note the sender.

Meet over the river at dusk, where our worlds still cross. Come alone.

"What is it?" Milla asked, probably reading the concern in my expression.

"I've got to go down to the station." I looked at Nonna and the rest of my family. "As lovely walking down memory lane has been, I need to check on something. I'll see you all after dinner."

"I'll see you out," Milla said, taking her own excuse to leave. She kissed Nonna on a wrinkled cheek and muttered something about getting hungry. My grandmother, being the insensitive hag she was, encouraged Milla to go put some meat on her bones.

"Ignore her," I said as she joined me in the hall.

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her midsection. "She isn't wrong. I could use a full meal to get some strength back." Before I could pocket it, she grabbed the note from my hands and read it over. "What's this?"

"I suppose I'm about to find out."

"You're going to meet a stranger by yourself? What if it's a trap? What if this is from Felix?"

I snatched the paper from her hands and tapped the symbol in the corner, where an eagle was printed on the stationery. "This is from the High Overseer's office. I know because I've seen it on his desk. If he wants to meet with me, it could mean the OIC is ready for negotiations. I've been waiting for word from them."

The worry creasing her forehead smoothed, but her lips pursed doubtfully. "Still, I wish you'd bring someone to the viaduct if that's where the letter is requesting you meet." Her gaze fell from the note to the floor. "And I wish you weren't being taken away so soon after we just arrived."

I took both her hands in mine, smoothing a thumb across her fingers. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'm all yours tonight, princess."

"All mine," she repeated. Saints, the way she said it sent a shiver down my spine. "Maybe you can show me what you learned in those books of yours."

My laugh barked an echo through the house as we descended to the main level. "You're just jealous you had to read about trains while I was learning how to fuck—"

"Nico!"

"You know, you weren't complaining back at East End." Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink as we made it to the bottom of the stairs, and I stole a kiss before she could even return it. "See you tonight, then."

Fog swirled off the river,hiding the last reaches of the sun to darken the dusk. I bent the little light that still hazed the sky to guide my steps over the train tracks running over the steel-made viaduct. It was the only connection between the Districts and the Row, one heavily guarded on our side and not commonly used for foot transportation. If the train came through, one would have nowhere to go except into the river, but there would be no train tonight.

A glaring light split through the fog from a kerosine lamp. I used my remnant to brush away the mist, getting a clearer image of the person I'd meet without getting too close. They must have felt my wind, for the figure turned to face me, pulling down her hood.

"Vanya?"

The Overseer's daughter set down her lamp on the ice already forming over the wooden slats of the tracks. I neared her slowly, as if approaching an enemy—unsure if that line had been drawn.

"You really fucked everything up this time, Nicolai."

My wind swept behind her, checking for any hidden figures in the failing light of the gloam, but we were alone. "I'm sure I've put your father in quite an uncomfortable position, but that's not my problem."

"It's going to be," she hissed.

I adjusted the lapels of my coat tighter around my chest. The temperature dropped with the sun. Flakes of fresh snow swirled in the air, just flurries now. Soon, though, they might be blinding. "What have you heard so far?"

"So far?" she asked, brows raising. "You mean there's more than the bloody bridge, the Hightower Heist, and the fact you somehow let it spill that my father was involved with helping you take down Gavriel?"

"Is that what they're calling it? The Hightower Heist?" I had to admit, it had a nice ring to it. If she didn't look so cross, I might have asked for a copy of the Isle Inquirer for that headline.

Her gloved hands opened and shut into fists. "Did you not hear me?" she seethed. "The Niners know about what happened. They know everything because you told Gavriel I fed you the wrong fucking names. They know we took down their people."

"Shit." I scrubbed my face. I hadn't thought of the long term when I spilled my plans to the previous inspector. "Have you or your father received any threats? What are the Niners going to do about it?"

"Nothing." She crossed her arms. Her gaze fell to my feet. "They're going to hold it over our heads for now. Make sure we don't interfere with their plans, or my father will be removed from office."

"But we made sure the Nine had little support left to influence the ballots," I said. "There's no merit to these threats—"

She looked me in the eye then. "Neal Caldwell has turned this city against you, Nicolai. After you blew up the bridge, he blamed you for segregating our kinds, he blamed descendants for thinking they were better than us. The natives here now think you're just trying to starve us out, take everything we have until there's nothing left so you can swoop in and steal it all from underneath us, just as your father and your family did with the Steelworks. Then the railway."

She took a step closer. "The people think you're coming for them now." Her voice was lower, a pitch gentler. "Once word spreads about Hightower..." She shook her head. "The Nine will have all the support they need. My father is powerless against them, and even if he refuses their demands, they'll just put someone else up that will comply. The people will call for his head if we support you."

I paced a short path down and up the length of the viaduct. War had always been a possibility, but so had peace. Neal Caldwell worked the system to ensure the Nine got what they'd wanted all along. They'd forced me to take matters into my own hands to protect the ones I loved, to protect the people they were trying to harm from the beginning, and painted me as a villain for it.

I paused my stride for a moment. "I'm sorry you and your father are dealing with this. You know I never meant for this to happen."

She sighed, a white cloud spilling from her lips in the frigid air. "That's why I'm meeting you and not retaliating. It was always a risk, being found out."

"Did they say anything specific about Hightower? Were you at the meeting with your father when he was briefed?"

"I was there," she said. "They only said you emancipated the very dangerous descendants there. That you were possibly making an army out of them."

So, nothing about Camilla. Perhaps I could help her situation. "Vanya, I need to tell you about why I went to Hightower."

"What?"

"I didn't just go to the prison to free the prisoners. Sure, I wanted to help them. But the real reason..." I stepped closer and dropped my voice, in case it carried on the harsh wind. "Is because they had my wife."

Her eyes widened. "Camilla? She's alive?"

"Yes." I nodded. "She has a very powerful remnant, something the Nine want to use and we cannot let them have. That's why I broke into Hightower. There is a game being played here that they've planned for a long time, and we're only on the brink of whatever is to come."

Vanya was silent for a minute, absorbing what I'd just told her. Her shocked expression bounced over the tracks as she pondered. "Why is her remnant so powerful?"

"Because it goes against what the OIC wants—Order." It was becoming clear that Chaos, the antithesis of Order, threatened what the Nine and the OIC had been after all along. "They think it is the key to something, though I'm not sure what yet. Do what you will with that information."

She nodded slowly, the focus in her eyes detaching. "If I hear anything about their plans for Camilla, I will send them down the pipeline. If they believe me to be ignorant, they'll most likely speak more freely in my presence."

Vanya was more than just the Overseer's daughter or the Head of Public Affairs. She was the city socialite. She had connections to every family, thanks to her father's obsessive need to please his voters. Something that could give us an advantage. "Just be careful. Have you heard anything about a captured descendant?"

She shook her head. "No, why?"

Disappointment filled my chest. "I suppose it doesn't matter now." Hells, what if they tortured him? What if they kept him alive for the proper time, to play with us later? Felix knew I didn't leave a man behind. I gave up that card when I dragged every descendant out of Hightower behind my wife.

"I'll keep an ear out, regardless," she said. "This is messy, Nicolai, but we'll fix it. You don't want your people to suffer any more than I'd wish for mine. As long as we work together, we can beat them, but you must be as honest as I am with you. Trust me."

I winced at the word. I'd trusted plenty when I was younger, and experience had broken all my faith in men, but she had proven time and time again to have pure intentions, and I needed an ally among my enemies. "You're the only one I trust across the river, Vanya. Stay out of trouble."

Her lips curled in a grin, which began to purple from the cold. "Keep your eyes on the river. The temperature is dropping, the water is already beginning to freeze over. The Society won't need a bridge with that kind of connection. If I were you, I'd keep my eyes on the embankments." She picked up her lamp and dipped her chin. "Send your wife my best."

She disappeared, shielded by the fog and the thickening snowfall.