27. Lyssa

I jerk awake,the thin hotel sheets twisted around my legs in a mockery of sensual disarray. The last of the daylight filters through the thin curtains on the windows, and I blink away the vestiges of sleep, my body still carrying the phantom traces of Scarlett’s intoxicating touch.

Slick skin, swollen lips…the hunger in those forest-pool eyes as she rolled on top of me…

My breath catches at the vivid recollection, a simmering ache low in my belly. I stretch lazily, calling out, “Scar?”

She’s not here.

It’s a little disturbing to me that she was able to slip out of here without me hearing her. Normally I’m a light sleeper...

Something about her really knocks me out. Literally.

I reach for my phone and as soon as I glimpse the screen, I sit up in bed. Silenced notifications have been flooding the screen while I’ve been asleep—missed calls, urgent messages. I scroll through the barrage of alerts from the crew. Words like “emergency” and “Mrs. Graves” and “gone” jump out at me, a cold knot forming in my gut.

And once again, I call out, “Scar?” I get out of bed, checking for her phone. She’s definitely gone—like I should be. Mrs. Graves is in trouble, and I’ve been fucking napping.

At the back of my mind, a suspicion builds. The water she gave me…

But Scarlett has no interest in Mrs. Graves, surely. Her only target so far—Grandmother’s target—has been me.

Still, where the hell is Mrs. G?

I pull on my clothes in a frenzy and race back to the Empire Grand, and head straight for Hadria’s suite. The guards at her door just wave me in, and that’s not a good sign. All eyes turn to me as I burst into the suite—Marco, Ricky, Aurora, a few other Syndicate seniors. And Johnny the Gentleman.

Johnny de Luca, Juno Bianchi’s consigliere and sometime-Chicago resident, is also present. That…can’t be good.

“Thank you for finding time in your schedule for us,” Hadria says coldly to me.

That really can’t be good.

“I—”

She holds up a hand. “We don’t have time.” She gives Johnny a nod, and says, in that deceptively mild tone that I know means trouble, “Show them.”

He casts video from a tablet to the TV mounted above the fireplace. Grainy security footage plays, and for a second I really think I’m going to be sick all over the luxe carpet of the Bianchi Family’s Empire Grand hotel.

Because there she is—Scarlett, that waterfall of dark chestnut hair unmistakable, even in the lower-quality video. And I know the woman with her as well as I know my own reflection.

It’s Mrs. Graves.

Scarlett is pulling her along, making her drop all her bags, pulling her hard along an alley until…

Until they go out of view.

Hadria rewinds to the one moment where Scarlett looks behind her, looks at the camera, and I feel like she’s looking straight at me.

That scheming little viper...

All the vulnerability she’s shown me, the glimpses of a shattered heart that made me ache to soothe her demons—it was all a ploy?

“But Lyssa…isn’t that your girlfriend Ruby?” Aurora’s soft, bewildered voice shatters the shocked silence.

I flinch like she’s slapped me, and I can’t look at Hadria, even though she’s staring at me. Scarlett got closer to me than anyone in decades, so close I dropped my guard like a naive recruit.

But for what? To steal away the person I consider a mother? It makes no sense…

All at once, the room erupts in a maelstrom of shouts and frantic accusations as the others process the footage. Marco and Ricky talk over each other, demanding answers I don’t have.

“Why the fuck is the assassin still alive?”

“I thought you were going to ice her, Lyssa! What is this shit?”

“Did you know about her bullshit this whole time?”

Chaos reigns until Hadria’s glacial tone cuts through the din like a frigid Arctic wind. “Everyone. Out. Now.”

No one dares defy her. They scatter, leaving me alone to face the wrath of our leader. The door clicks shut with a sense of grave finality, and I can’t stand up anymore. I collapse on a sofa.

Hadria’s pale gray eyes bore into me, blazing with a rage colder than I’ve ever seen. When she finally speaks, I wish she’d just scream instead of use that soft, lethal tone that’s a million times worse. “You have let your goddamn feelings compromise everything.” I open my mouth, but she silences me with an upheld hand. “I could see something was going on, but I trusted you, Lyssa. I trusted you. I believed you when you said you had everything handled. But now, because of you, Mrs. Graves is a hostage. The woman I consider my mother?—”

“And mine,” I say weakly. My chest constricts with each agonized breath. “Hadria, I didn’t know?—”

“Don’t insult me with your pitiful excuses. If anything happens to that woman...” She shakes her head slowly. “I will never forgive you. Ever. Do you understand?”

Pleading is probably useless, I know, but I have to try. “Hadria, please…give me one more chance. I’ll get Mrs. Graves back, I swear on Elysium. And I’ll kill Scarlett and Grandmother as soon as Mrs. G is safe. No more fucking around. You know I can do it. You know I can.”

I can. And I’m her best shot, and she knows that, too. But when she finally answers, there’s still no trace of warmth.

“One chance. That’s all you get. Don’t waste it, because I will fucking skin you alive if you fuck this up.” And then, to my surprise, she blows out a long breath, and when she speaks next, the cold crime queen has disappeared. “Lyssa, I swear to God, if she dies…” She puts a hand to her mouth, and I’m shocked to see that it’s shaking.

Seeing Hadria’s fear bolsters me, somehow. I’ve always been a rock when others need me. I can be that now. For Hadria. For Mrs. Graves.

I get to my feet and go to her, take her by the shoulders, shake her hard. “Get your shit together,” I tell her in a low, firm voice. “You can be pissed at me later. Hell, I can be pissed at me later. But we don’t have time for that now. You need to get your head in the game.”

Under my hands, she straightens up, and I’m relieved to see the fear in her eyes harden to resolve. “You and me,” she says at last. “Together. That’s our best shot. We go in together—surgical strike.”

Just like the good old days.

The good old days, before we had to worry about things like the Bianchi Family and Chicago becoming destabilized and people kidnapping the woman we both love like a mother.

I’d rather do it alone, because I feel like I need to pay for my foolishness. And I’d like to look Scarlett right in the face as I drain the life from her.

I’d like to do that privately.

But I can see Hadria is working to put aside her rage and her fury and come up with the best plan. Like me, she can focus when it counts. “Okay,” I say. “Together. What else do we need?”

“We’ll need some men to help manage ingress and egress,” she says. “Johnny de Luca managed to get footage of Scarlett’s car all the way to a particular high-rise building, so at least we know where they are. He’s getting hold of the blueprints now so we can find a way in.”

I nod. I should have known Hadria was already working on a plan. She’s always ahead of the game, and that’s the one thing that gives me hope right now.

Then she reaches up, putting her hands on my shoulders too, drawing me close to put her forehead against mine. “And once Mrs. Graves is safe, you will kill this Scarlett, Lyssa. That is an order.”

“Yes, Boss.”

I don’t need the order.

Nothing on earth could stop me from putting down Scarlett now.