Page 10 of Consort of the Crime Queen

He bristles, but before he can respond, Mama steps smoothly in front of me. "Good day gentlemen," she says brightly. "How wonderful that the happy couple have been reunited. My husband and I will be delighted to discuss wedding plans."

"There's nothing to discuss. The wedding will happen today," Nero snaps.

Don Imperioli is a head shorter than his son, but when he turns on Nero, it's Nero who takes a step back. "Have you forgotten yourself, boy? The girl is under my roof. Under my command. I decide what is to be done with her."

"She's mine by rights." Nero's tone borders on belligerent. "Her father sold—gave," he quickly amends. "He gave her to me."

Sensing her opportunity, Mother interjects sweetly, "Don Imperioli, surely you understand the sanctity of marriage vows, being a God-fearing man." Clasping his hand deferentially she entreats, "I beg you, let us have a proper church ceremony, to make sure everyone bears witness. For my daughter's honor."

And for his, though she doesn't add that. My mother is very good at this kind of thing when she wants to be. I wonder when my father finally began to get wise to her ways. He's glaring at her now, but he dares not speak as the Don preens under her attentions. "Yes, of course. We Imperiolis value tradition." He casts a glowering look at Nero. "The boy can wait another week for a formal affair. I want the city to understand who holds the power here."

There's a dangerous spark of in Nero's eyes and Mama presses on smoothly before the Don can be distracted. "How generous of you, Don Imperioli. The whole of Chicago will see your power and your grace."

The Don straightens up. "That's right. I won't have anyone usurping my authority. And certainly not my children." Pointing his cane at Nero he declares, "One week, at St. Stephen's. Tell the priest there I'll double my donation if he clears the schedule for us. No, I'll not hear another word," he goes on as Nero begins to whine. "You'll do as you're told or you'll regret it. This is my command as head of the Family."

It's very clear which Family he means. Scowling, Nero bows stiffly. "As you command…Don Imperioli." The set of his jaw suggests barely-leashed fury. For now, he's yielded. But there's no telling at all when that leash might snap.

"Perhaps Aurora might come home with us to prepare," Mama goes on. "She'll need a new dress, of c?—"

"No." The dismissal is final. Even Mama, with her new-found backbone, understands Don Imperioli will not budge on this. "You may attend her, Sylvia. But any dressmaking will happen here. Aurora is under my protection until I hand her over to my son. We don't want her falling into…other hands." He gives a grim smile.

I try to look grateful. At least I've bought myself a little more time. One week. Surely Hadria will be able to come up with a plan by then.

I fall into bed feeling less scared that night, and more inclined to sleep in the bed than the bath, after Don Imperioli's command to Nero. Nero might be unpredictable, to put it mildly, but he's still under his father's thumb.

Not like Hadria.

Hadria…God, I miss her. I choke down a sob, annoyed at myself. Tears are useless right now. I need to be tough and smart and brave and strong, like Hadria has spent the last few months teaching me. And if I can do that, I might stand a chance of getting back to her.

CHAPTER 6

Hadria

The war room of Elysium is a place of strategy and secrets, the silence-soaked walls privy to countless decisions. It's my sanctuary, the place where I am most in control—or so I like to think. But tonight it echoes only with uncertainty, the kind that has gnawed at me for the past twenty-four hours.

Lyssa is out looking, though she's due back within the hour to go over what little information we have for the fifteenth time. And I'm slumped helplessly in my chair at the head of the table, a black void in my chest growing larger and larger, when my phone buzzes with an incoming text.

It's from Johnny de Luca, and all it says is St. Stephen's anonymous wedding next week.

I know it's bad form to call, but I want to hear it from his lips. Johnny's voice is as warm and polite as ever when I call him. "That's all I've heard, Hadria. Nothing more to add. But I thought it could be your girl. And if so, it would seem to suggest a certain Roman Emperor."

My father named us both after Roman emperors. I was supposed to be a boy. Hadrian was my father's favorite emperor. I've always wondered what possessed him to name Nero after the most infamous of Roman rulers, the one who burned the whole place down.

Was Nero cursed by his name, or does he merely try to live up to it?

My fingers tighten around the phone as I think about what Johnny is saying. "Perhaps," I say vaguely, but doubt gnaws at me. Nero's ego is a live wire, something he can't control.

If he had Aurora, he'd be gloating, not keeping it quiet.

"I appreciate the heads up," I say at last. "Keep digging."

I end the call and the silence swallows me whole again. I never used to mind the quiet here at Elysium, not like I do since Aurora left. Even before I found out she'd been taken from me, the week she was away, I felt like the house wasn't just quiet but…silent.

Silent like a mausoleum.

I press my palms against my eyes, feeling the weight of helplessness trying to sink its claws into me. No, not now. I won't crumble and give in to those useless emotions—not when Aurora needs me.

I stand and pace the room, letting at least the sound of my footsteps break the silence, and helping my mind tick over. Despite this church wedding that Johnny turned up, I can't believe Nero has her. I've had someone watching him for months, anyway, and there's been no suggestion in the last week that he was anywhere near the apartment safe house, or had any idea she was there.

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