“Are you hit?” Dante growls to the rest of us.

“No,” Nero says at once.

“What about you?” I ask Aida, manually rubbing my hands down her bare arms and legs to make sure they’re uninjured.

“I’m fine,” she says firmly.

I try to actually pay attention to my body, above the rushing thud of blood in my ears and the frantic firing of my neurons. I don’t think I was shot either.

“We’re good,” I tell Dante.

“Did you see any of the shooters?” Dante asks.

“They had their faces covered,” I say. “I think I saw a gold watch on one of their wrists. Nothing useful.”

“The end of the license plate was 48996,” Aida pipes up.

“How did you see that?” Dante demands.

Aida shrugs. “I’m shorter.”

“That crazy son of a bitch!” Nero says, shaking his head in amazement. “He really wants us to fucking obliterate him, doesn’t he?”

“He’s trying to provoke a response,” Dante says, frowning.

“Don’t get up!” I say sharply, seeing Nero about to rise. “We don’t know if that was the only car. There could be another. Or other shooters.” I nod upward to the countless windows in the high rises surrounding the site.

“We can’t stay here,” Aida mutters. “The cops are gonna sweep the whole lot. Unless they’re dumb enough to write that off as a coincidence, they’re going to be taking this a hell of a lot more seriously now.”

Moving slowly, we sneak off the opposite side of the site, making our way back toward Nero’s truck. It’s the closest vehicle, and the one in the least well-lit area.

We all crowd into the cab so Nero can drive Aida and me around the corner to the spot where we left my car.

“We can’t do anything rash,” Dante says. “Zajac might be trying to lure us into an immediate retaliation. We need to hole up for the night. Figure out how we’re going to respond. Aida, you should come home with us.”

“She’s staying with me,” I say at once.

Dante frowns. “We don’t know exactly who the Butcher is targeting. He hit our building site, but he came to your fundraiser. We don’t know if that was for Aida, or for you. Or for both.”

“Exactly.” I nod. “Which is why Aida should stay with me. If it turns out that he’s aiming his attacks at your family, she’ll be safer with mine.”

“What exactly did Zajac say to you two?” Dante asks.

I summarize the conversation.

“I don’t know if he really wants that CTA property, or if he was just testing me. Actually, he mostly seemed annoyed about the wedding. I think he’s trying to crack us before the alliance is solidified.”

“Could be,” Dante says, his forehead wrinkled in thought. “The Butcher is touchy. Insanely prideful, easily offended. He’s probably angry that we didn’t offer Aida to him first.”

“Fucking gross,” Aida interjects. “For one thing, he’s old. For another, I’m not a fucking pog.”

“Either way, it’s too late,” I growl. “You’re mine. And whatever he wants as a consolation prize, he’s not getting it.”

“I still think she should come with us,” Dante says. “We know the Butcher better than you do.”

“Not happening,” I say flatly. I’m not letting Aida out of my sight.

Dante scowls, not used to anybody contradicting his orders. But it’s not all ego—I can see the concern in his face, his fear for Aida. It softens my tone, just a little.

“I’ll protect her,” I promise him.

Dante gives a curt nod. He believes me.

“We’ll ride out the night,” Dante says again. “Then in the morning, we’ll find out where Zajac is hiding and plan our response.”

“A coordinated response,” I say.

“Yes,” Dante agrees.

Aida and I get out of the truck, transferring over to my Audi.

I can see Dante is still reluctant to let his sister leave with me.

It’s Aida who convinces him. “I’ll be safe with Callum,” she says.

She gives her oldest brother a quick hug and squeezes Nero’s arm.

“I’ll see you both soon,” she says.

As I pull the car away from the curb I say, without looking at her, “I’m glad you stayed with me.”

Aida tilts her head, looking at my profile while I drive.

“I want us to be partners,” she says. “Not just . . . unwilling roommates.”

“I want that, too,” I tell her.

Easier said than done. But it doesn’t seem impossible anymore. I’m starting to believe that Aida and I could actually work together. We could be stronger together than apart.

Aida sighs.

“He certainly hit us where it hurts,” she says.

“Because the tower is such a big project?” I ask her.

“No. It’s not the money, exactly. It’s the work—we have to provide a constant flow of contracts to the various trades and unions to keep them loyal. The materials, the jobs—if you can’t feed the machine, then it all grinds to a halt. And of course,” she casts a sideways look at me, “there’re the other layers of the machine. The shipments that carry more than lumber. The businesses that wash money for the other businesses. It’s a web, all interconnected, all reliant on the smooth operation of the individual parts.”

I nod. “We work the same.”

Our businesses may differ, but the strategies are similar.

“The election is only a couple of days away,” Aida muses. “I wonder if Zajac will try to blow that up, too.”

My hands tighten around the steering wheel.

“If he tries, the Butcher’s going to find himself on the wrong end of the cleaver this time around.”

19

Aida

I have to leave early the next morning, because I’ve got a literature class I don’t want to miss. I’ve been buckling down this semester, actually passing my classes. I think it’s time to quit fucking around and finish my degree.

Callum doesn’t want me going anywhere until this thing with Zajac has come to a head, but he finally relents under the condition that Nessa and I have one of his men drive us to school.

Unfortunately, the only person available is Jack.

Under orders from Callum, he opens the car door for me with forced politeness, but waves of loathing are rolling off him and me. The tension in the car is so thick that poor Nessa is wide-eyed and confused, too uncomfortable to engage in her usual stream of cheerful conversation.

“So, uh, did you guys see there’s supposed to be some kind of meteor shower tonight?” she asks us.

Jack grunts from the driver’s seat.

I’m looking at the back of his head, wondering if it would be worth another fight with Callum to just pop Jack once in the ear when we pull up to campus.

“What?” I say to Nessa.

“I said—oh, never mind.”

Jack drops us off in front of the Cudahy library, his eyes fixed rigidly ahead as he waits for us to get out of the car.