Page 79 of Red Dreams

I'm shaking now, and not just from the cold. Hot tears mingle with the salt water on my face. I bite my knuckles until I taste blood as if the physical pain can overshadow the agony shredding my chest.

He’s not going to die. He won’t leave me. Kaden will be okay. Ethan will be okay. We’re all going to be fine.

The boat slows at the side of the dock. I shrink back, praying the inky water conceals me.

Heavy boots thud on the planks with gruff voices barking orders in Italian, followed by the ominous click of guns being cocked.

My heart pounds so loudly, I'm certain they can hear it. I barely dare to breathe. The water laps against my chin, so cold it burns. My muscles scream in protest as I force myself to remain still.

One pair of boots stops directly above me. Through the rotting planks, I catch a glimpse of cruel eyes in a brutish face. It’s one of the men who loved watching me while I was naked and tied down, the kind of man who paints his rape-like thoughts on his face without shame.

“Jesus Christ, it took you guys long enough.”

I cover my mouth to stifle the gasp that almost escapes.

That was a woman’s voice. One I recognize all too well.

Cassie’s.

26

LAYLA

Kaden taught me how to kill a man fifteen different ways, but he never mentioned how to stay silent while freezing to death under a dock.

My teeth chatter violently as I crouch in the frigid, murky water. The cold seeps into my bones, my muscles cramping and spasming. I clench my jaw, trying to still the involuntary shudders wracking my body, terrified that even the slightest ripple will give away my position.

Above me, footsteps thud heavily on the weathered wooden planks, sending vibrations through the rotting posts that surround me like a cage. I press myself deeper into the shadows, my back scraping against the algae-slick pilings. The brine stings my eyes and fills my nostrils with its pungent decay.

Through the narrow gaps between the boards, I catch glimpses of tight jeans and a leather jacket—clothes I’ve lent Cassie while we were stuck in a fortress.

A fortress ofherdoing.

One she always planned to crumble to dust.

She must have followed Kaden and me, allegedly watching his back while waiting for her men to come get her.

My lungs burn as I hold my breath, straining to hear the conversation above.

“You've done well, Cassie.” A man's tone turns appraising. “If he were alive, Morelli would be pleased. You’ve passed his final test to become the rightful heir.”

“I’m so glad I had to let them go when I already had them, thenrecapture them, all to prove Papa’s posthumous love,” Cassie drawls. “Can we get the rest over with and kill them now? I’d love to sleep in my own bed again instead of a rat-infested lighthouse.”

The man chuckles as if accustomed to Cassie’s prissy behavior. “Where is the Scythe hiding?”

“Not far,” Cassie replies. “He wouldn't stray too far from her. He's gone soft.”

Oh, Kaden. My heart breaks for him.

“We’ll keep our word then, Miss Morelli,” the man says, his voice now directly overhead. “Once we tie up these loose ends, we’re your lieutenants to command.”

“Wonderful,” Cassie says, applauding. “Because I’m tired of Papa’s games and have my own shit to take care of.”

Cassie's betrayal cuts deep even though I never truly trusted her. But the ease with which these men agree to her terms sets off warning bells in my head.

“Now, where exactly is the girl hiding?” the man asks, his tone dripping with false sincerity,

Planks above my head creak as she shifts her weight. “She’s currently cowering like a drowned rat.”

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