Page 68 of Mercy in Betrayal

The door bursts open, and a guard stands there, stunned speechless by the scene before him. His boss is screaming on the ground; the office is engulfed in flames. I shrug. “He wanted a cigarette.”

The guard lifts his gun and I smash my elbow into his face, knocking him down before I sprint from the room. Heavy footfalls pound down the hall, and I duck into another room. I wait as men race past me then I leave the room, black smoke billowing from the office. I race the rest of the way to the front door, where Tom stands. His face is whiter than I’ve ever seen it before.

“What have you done?” he asks.

“He wanted a fucking cigarette,” I say again.

I push Tom aside and race down the steps and out into the growing crowd, then slow down and try to blend in. So many people are staring at the Marzano mansion that has smoke pouring out the front door. The fire has spread quickly, and the growing crowd extracts their phones and captures the destruction of the magnificent building. Security pours out the front doors, all coughing and covering their faces.

I stand, anonymous in the crowd, and watch the Marzano mansion burn to the ground. Tall skyscrapers surround it; it’s the only such single family dwelling of its kind here in Manhattan. The Marzanos refused to sell their home; they refused to give up their plot of Manhattan earned through blood.

That reign would end here tonight. When flames explode the windows in the front of the house, I feel satisfied that there is no saving it. I don’t hear the wails of the fire department. I hope the traffic is heavy enough to keep them away a bit longer. I move to the back of the crowd and stuff my hands into my pockets as I walk away from the Marzano mansion. I had parked my car a few blocks away and take a moment to look around me before I get in.

No one has followed; they would all be occupied with the fire.

I start the engine and make my way home.

“For you, Francis,” I say, and laugh out loud. For once, my father’s voice is quiet, and traffic is light as I make my way home.

When I enter the house, the only person who greets me is Sarah. She’s lighting the fire in the main drawing room and smiles when I walk in.

“Have you seen Rowan?” I ask as I get out of my jacket. I need a shower. I smell like smoke.

She shakes her head. “No, Mr Scarpetta, she hasn’t arrived home yet.”

Fuck.

Chapter 24

Rowan

My fingers flex in Clementine’s thick fur as Vivi’s driver takes us away from Cassidy and Evie’s apartment.

Away from Enzo.

Vivi had decided against taking public transportation back to Columbia or wherever we chose to go next and had called her driver while I was in the apartment. Thankfully, he was waiting for us when we stepped out of the elevator and exited the building’s glass doors. If he hadn’t been, I have no doubt Enzo, and likely Cassidy would have been on my heels.

“Reset.” I lower my face to Clementine’s neck and murmur the word to myself.

“It’s going to be alright, Rowan.” Vivi’s hand comes to rest on my knee, and I straighten to see the freeway lights moving across her face.

“Where are we going?”

“Staten Island. Sometimes, a separation is a good thing. It can make your relationship stronger.”

I huff out a disbelieving breath. “Is that what you call this…this thing…between us? A relationship?”

“Of course it’s a relationship.”

“I’m with Enzo Scarpetta because he saw me, and he wanted me. He would have just taken me—that’s what men like him, and my brother, and your brother do, isn’t it?” The words are harsh, but I can’t recall them. They spill out, full of venom and bitter poison. Vivi sits and listens, her eyes glittering in the darkness punctuated by the passing lights. “They take what they want. But maybe he figured I would serve a purpose: leverage his position with his enemies. So he married me. It’s nothing more, nothing less, and I’d be a fool to believe any different.”

“Rowan…” Her voice is soft with sympathy.

“I’m fine, Vivi.”

I’m not fine. I’m anything but fine, but for the sake of this conversation and this car ride, I need to be fine. I look out the window at cars whizzing by in all directions.

I wish I were in any of those cars, going anywhere but where I’m going in this car, in my own life.

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