Page 75 of Sacrifice

Gunnar’s gaze follows me, sharp and calculating. Aisling’s eyes are wide, her lips parted slightly as if to urge me to spit it out. Oberon stands still, his whole body taut with anticipation. Luka’s jaw clenches, and I can almost hear the cogs in Nero’s head whirring at double speed.

I stop pacing and turn to face them all, letting the silence stretch for just a moment longer. They deserve the dramatics; they need to be prepared for the impact.

“I’ve finally learned who Vance was working with,” I announce, the words hanging between us like a guillotine’s blade. I let them take a breath, watch their faces shift from anticipation to dread, and then I drop the name like a bombshell. “It’s Lianna Rossi.”

The air in the room thickens, charged with an electric current of disbelief and betrayal. I don’t need to look around to know their shock—I can feel it vibrating in the space, a tangible force that momentarily sucks the oxygen out of the suite.

Nero’s reaction is subtle, but I catch the slight narrowing of his eyes, the faintest tightening of his mouth. He knows more than he lets on—always has. The others, though, their reactions are raw and exposed. Gunnar’s hand tightens imperceptibly on Aisling’s shoulder, a gesture of protection and support. Aisling herself seems to recoil, as if the name itself is a physical blow. Oberon’s fists clench at his sides, knuckles whitening—a display of controlled fury.

And Luka… well, Luka looks like he’s ready to leap into action, right here, right now.

“Lianna?” Aisling’s voice slices through the heavy air, sharp as a knife. Her grey eyes are wide, reflecting the turmoil that must be roiling within her. “How could Vance work with her? She’s…she’s psychotic.” It’s a question laced with pain and incredulity, her pale skin blanching at the very thought.

Oberon steps forward. His narrowed gaze fixes on me, demanding, unyielding. “What’s her angle, Rook?” he grunts out, the bass of his voice rumbling through the suite like distant thunder.

I hold their gazes, feeling the weight of their collective expectation. They look to me for answers I’m not sure I have, but I’ve never backed down from a challenge—not against the Eclipse, not against Caius, and certainly not now.

“Her angle,” I start, pausing to choose my words carefully, “remains to be seen.”

My eyes flick to Nero, who remains an unreadable statue among the tempest of emotions swirling around him. He knows something—something vital—but he’s guarding it close, like he does with all his secrets.

“Look,” I press on, steadying my voice against the tide of anxious energy that threatens to break over us. “Lianna’s been working the shadows for a reason. It’s not just about power or control…there’s got to be something else at play.”

The room falls silent, every pair of eyes fixed on me.

But then Nero clears his throat.

“She’s doing whatever is necessary to keep him safe,” he says. “That’s her only priority.”

“Keep who safe?” Gunnar’s brow furrows, his stance rigid with suppressed agitation. “Caius?”

“No,” Nero shakes his head. “Her son.”

I stare at Nero, ust like everyone else. That…well, I didn’t see it coming, even though I thought I’d worked out all the pieces of this. If she really has a son, she’s kept him well-hidden.

“Son?” Oberon echoes, the word sounding alien and dangerous coming from his lips.

Luka’s face hardens, etched with disbelief. “Since when does Caius have a kid?”

Nero lets out a humorless laugh. “Since eighteen years ago. And that must be why she wanted me killed…because I knew. Because I helped her get him out of Pacific City what feels like a lifetime ago.”

Nero’s revelation hangs in the air, a tangible shockwave that ripples through the suite. A collective gasp echoes off the walls, and I feel it too—the sharp intake of breath, the sudden tightness in my chest. Lianna Rossi, the merciless matriarch who’s become synonymous with treachery, has a child? It’s like trying to picture a viper nurturing its young—a concept so foreign it borders on the absurd.

“Lianna has a son?” Aisling’s voice carries the tremor of disbelief that we’re all feeling. Her grey eyes are wide, reflecting the tumultuous thoughts that must be racing through her mind. “How? And why didn’t anyone know?”

“Because she’s Lianna Rossi,” Nero says bitterly, as if that alone explains everything—and maybe it does. “She’s been pulling strings from the shadows all along. She doesn’t play games unless she holds all the cards.”

The pack members exchange glances, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and caution. The knowledge that Lianna Rossi would go to such lengths for her offspring—it’s not just unexpected, it’s a complete recalibration of what we thought we knew about our enemy.

“Protecting her child,” Luka mutters, almost to himself. “Even predators have a soft spot, it seems.”

“Soft spot?” Aisling shakes her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. “More like a blind spot. If her child is her priority, that could be something we use to our advantage.”

“Or it could be our undoing,” Gunnar adds darkly. “We can’t underestimate what a mother will do for her child. Especially not Lianna Rossi.”

“Lianna always has more than one reason for anything she does. She’s playing chess—always thinking several moves ahead.”

“Then we need to think like her,” Gunnar says, rising from his seat. His stature commands attention, the authority of an alpha who’s seen more battles than most would in ten lifetimes. “We stay one step ahead. We figure out her strategy and anticipate her next move. That’s how we win.”

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