Page 8 of Tempted to Rebel

“Burn scars?”

He hands me a tablet with all of the crime scene photos organized into different folders for each victim. I open the most recent case file and scan every single picture for signs that our killer is none other thangood ol’ Dadstirring up trouble. But although the murderer is clearly fucked in the head, we don’thave proof that it’s our father. Just a gut feeling that neither Thanatos or I can shake.

That, and the fact that the victims are treated likeshit.

The latest victim has burns on her calves and forearms, a few nastier ones on the backs of her hands and around her ankles. Some are deep and in a pattern resembling chain links, but a few marks are too indiscernible to make out around the mutilated flesh. Whoever is doing this to people has one hell of a grudge to work through, and if I know anything about my father, it’s that he’s been harboring massive amounts of hate and resentment our entire lives.

I ignore the way my skin itches at seeing the burn scars on the victim’s body and continue scanning the photos. “Was she assaulted?” She’s still wearing a little black cocktail dress and heels, which points to her having been on a date the night she died. A quick shake of my eldest brother’s head confirms my suspicions. Aside from the violence, she wasn’t touched otherwise, meaning that although the assailant might get off on torturing women, the crimes may not be sexual in nature.

“She was alive for most of it,” Thanatos continues, sighing heavily, “but she sustained the worst of the injuries post-mortem, if that’s any consolation.”

“Since when did you become a detective?”

Thanatos has always been more of the muscle than the brains to the bratva’s operations—hell, all of us are—so either he’s gotten a promotion, or he’s taking a personal interest on account of Dad’s unknown whereabouts.

He pinches his lips together. “You of all people should know that in order to survive, we have to adapt. I can’t take out a target if I don’t know how to find him first. Whoever is doing this is on the bratva’s radar, so I’ve been tasked with finding him.”

“And have you found him?”

Thanatos clenches his jaw and stares off into the distance. “No.”

I change the subject to something much more important. “What about the break-in at Celia’s? Any idea if they’re connected?”

My brother nods toward the tablet in my hand. “Open the file from last week.”

I open the indicated file and swipe through the images to recheck each one. I don’t have to scroll far before my blood runs cold. This victim is lying on her front in the damp sand at the beach, her honey-blonde hair fanning out around her shoulders and an expensive evening gown hugging her curves. The warm sunrise highlights her caramel skin—and every burn tearing across it.

My heart fucking stops the longer I stare. This woman could be Celia’s sister with how similar their features are to each other’s.

“The guy has a type?” I tap the screen until I find the other victims’ files, noting how they’re all women of roughly the same age and build; pretty girls with winning smiles, perfect teeth, and immaculate manicures. Although they likely come from wealthy families, none of them are immediately familiar to me. Whoever the murderer is, he’s either strategically picking women we don’t protect as part of the bratva’s network, or he’s really good at avoiding us until now. “How did he find Celia?”

Thanatos shrugs. “She’s a pretty girl. Anyone with half a brain would notice her.”

I lift an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you liked pretty girls, much less mine.”

A vein in his neck throbs. “Idon’tlike her.”

“But you think she’s pretty.”

“Objectively-speaking, yes.” His dark eyes narrow as he swallows, and for once, he doesn’t seem like someone paradingaround with a major stick up his ass. He looks like a man struggling through an attraction to someone he hates.

“Mhm.” I hand him back the tablet, unable to keep a smirk off my face. “You can come visit her anytime, you know. You have access to our apartment.”

“I’m not interested in petsitting.”

I quickly try another tactic. Regardless of if the murderer is our father, Celia will need updated protection if she’s his type. Cage or no cage, she’ll be in danger until he’s captured. “What if I want to increase our security at the club?”

Thanatos closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m busy enough as it is.Toobusy. I did you a favor by bringing her to you—twicenow.” He holds up two fingers, likely referencing their shared limo ride toMidnightin addition to his most recent abduction. “I’m not doing any more.”

“I’ll pay you, so it’s not a favor. It’s a job.”

“Ezra’s working me hard enough as it is.” He takes a steadying breath, and by the way his shoulders drop, it seems like he really fucking needs it. “I’m actually surprised that Ezra doesn’t have you running laps all over the city after what happened with Katya. We need new blood in our ranks if we’re going to keep things running smoothly.”

I know about Katya Dolohov’s recent transgressions with ourpakhan—transgressions that she died for. Good fucking riddance, if you ask me. The bitch was bound to die messy, and from what I hear, she got off easy.

“Regardless,” I continue, “I want more security for the club. People are going to talk about the missing women once it goes public. Scared clients are bad for business.”

Thanatos’s mouth curves downward. “Talk to Ezra, then, not to me.”

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