Page 97 of Inferno

“New floors?” Enzo asks, looking down at the shimmering purple marble under his feet.

“Easier to clean up the mess,” I tell him and smirk.

I take him to the first door and look back at my brothers, who are holding it together. I can tell Conan wants to laugh.

I let Enzo go in and wait next to Finn.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Declan.”

That sends Conan over the edge. He bends over, clutching his stomach, tears streaming down his face as he laughs uncontrollably. The cool air makes me shiver as it beats against me from the room.

“It’s fucking freezing.” Enzo rushes out of the room and closes the door behind him.

“Gotta keep the molds in perfect condition. Chocolate melts.” I bite back my grin.

A low chuckle escapes Enzo’s lips as he shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips.

“I am lost for words. Creative. But an easy start for them?” He frowns. I can hear the cogs turning.

I clasp my hand on his shoulder.

“It only gets worse from here. False sense of security. I want to see how they behave. If they take it seriously or not.”

Enzo blinks at me. Taking in what he’s just seen, Conan finally stops laughing.

“Show me the worst room,” Enzo asks.

“As you wish.”

Chapter 31

CHARLOTTE

“Dimi, behind,” I shout. He’s too slow.

With a sharp intake of breath, I heft a throwing star, its weight familiar in my hand, and take aim at the man rushing toward Dimi.

It lands right on the back of his neck. He grabs it and falls to the ground. Finally, Dimi turns and finishes the job by slashing his throat.

“You’re fucking welcome,” I mutter.

Moving forward through the woods, the last cabin comes into view, a lonely structure amongst the towering trees, where Ivan’s remaining men wait.

They’ve been in hiding since his death after his son, Mikhail, slaughtered him last month. Obviously, no one wants to take over his father’s vile operations. Vlad tasked us to wipe the rest out.

This way it’s easier for them to establish full control over Russia.

So here I am.

Ending their lives.

Flower by flower.

As the wind blows, I shiver, coming to a halt by the oak tree.

“You take the back, I’ll take the front,” I tell Dimi.

“How many have you counted?” he asks from behind me.

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