Page 23 of Twisted Kings

“Mona had a stroke. We’re covering.” She seemed to accept our explanation and nodded.

“OK, well unload the food. We’re running out of time. The ceremony is about to begin.”

Shit, Dario better get a move on. The fat woman hurried back inside while Connor made a show of opening up the van to remove the trays of food we’d brought. I quickly sent Dario a message, letting him know it was time to cause a distraction.

11

Dario

Aprevious owner of the estate had built the tunnel from the ice house to the cellar in the 1700s. I’d used the tunnel many times during my friendship with Thea. On long, lonely nights when Torrance and Francesco were away, I’d sneak into the cellar and creep upstairs to Thea’s bedroom.

None of the house staff knew about the tunnel. I wasn’t sure Torrance or Francesco did either. I’d only discovered the entrance by accident one day while hiding in the old ice house. Rotten barrels covered the hatch, which was probably why nobody had found it.

I returned that evening with a torch to investigate where the hatch led and was delighted to discover a tunnel that tracked down and under the house. It took some effort to free off the small door inside the old wine cellar, but I managed that on a second excursion before hiding it with a disused wine rack.

The security cameras were easy to evade on a normal day, but today, Milo had looped the system to give us a fighting chance. After I’d successfully dodged the few guards patrolling outside, I entered the ice house and opened the hatch to the tunnel.

Once inside the wine cellar, I stopped to consider the best place to plant the C-4. The aim was to create a distraction, not bring the house down on our heads.

Rows upon rows of dusty bottles lay in racks, some of them so old I doubted they were even drinkable.

Francesco was not a serious collector. He mostly just liked to drink the stuff. This wasn’t a temperature-controlled room and from the droppings, rats had made a home down here. Luckily, rodents didn’t bother me.

I ducked behind some barrels in case anyone came down to pick up a nice bottle of Brunello di Montalcino which, for the record, was utterly wasted on Francesco di Luca. I pulled out one of the small blocks of C-4, safely wrapped in plastic, and placed it in a small hole in the wall. A second block went into the opposite wall.

Once the detonators were in place and linked to the app on my phone, I perused the wine.

It seemed a shame to sacrifice so much good quality wine. None of the bottles in here would survive an explosion. My fingers traced the dusty racks, perusing my options. Yes, taking a 1986 Masseto really was a no-brainer. The bottle went into my rucksack and then I ducked back into the tunnel.

I wanted to get far enough away from the wine cellar before detonating the C-4, but before then, it was time to head over to the garage, where Francesco kept his collection of vintage Lamborghinis. The man loved those cars way more than his daughters. Losing them all in one fiery blast would cripple him, and I highly doubted he had them insured.

Oops.

The burner phone tucked in my pocket vibrated with a message from Kyril telling me the wedding ceremony was about to begin. My father had told me two days ago about Francesco’splan to marry Thea off to Konstantin Marku. It was one of the many reasons why he’d had enough of working for Francesco.

My father was not a morally upstanding citizen, but even he had his limits. He’d witnessed my breakdown years before when I thought Thea had betrayed me. He tried back then to talk me out of working for Francesco, but I was too hot-heated and angry to listen to his advice.

I don’t think he ever believed Thea was capable of such cruelty, but although he’d said as much, I chose to believe Torrance’s bullshit. It was something I would regret to my dying day, which might well be sooner than I’d hoped, given what we were up against.

But now was not the time to worry about my mortality. I’d agreed to help Kyril because Thea didn’t deserve to end up married to a man like Marku. Playing a part in today’s rescue operation wouldn’t erase all the hurtful things I’d said and done since our paths crossed again, but they might ease my conscience.

I finished setting the last of the C-4 charges in Francesco’s garage. I felt a teeny bit sad about blowing up his 2014 Lamborghini Veneno Coupe, but nobody deserved it more than him.

Once I was well out of range, I activated the trigger. A few milliseconds later, Francesco’s garage went BOOM, along with his wine cellar. Shortly after that, all hell broke loose.

12

Thea

The priest hovered at the front of the drawing room, as close to the fire as he could get without setting his cassock on fire. Frankly, I didn’t blame him. I was freezing too.

As I watched, he pulled a small hip flask from a hidden pocket and took a healthy swallow. Marku and my father had yet to appear; not that I was eager for a fond reunion. No doubt Dad was busy adding more clauses to the wedding contract, making sure he got his money’s worth from selling his daughters.

The staff had long since removed the dust sheets from the furniture and lit the fire, but the air in here felt cold and musty. Not even the flower arrangements placed at intervals lifted the vibe. Or the presence of guests.

Torrance pushed me through the door, his hand gripping my arm so tightly that I had to grit my teeth to avoid making a pained sound. I scanned the room, searching for Verity. Several members of the local mafia families were here, sitting in chairs, looking bored. Most faces I recognized, but some were strangers.

The minute my gaze fell on my sister and Mrs. Gia tucked away at the back of the room, I lurched forward.

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