I kicked and clawed as they dragged me backward. But then, from a distance, I saw Caspian's boat approaching. They weren’t shooting? Why weren’t they shooting? Dom and the others hadn’t noticed the boat, and that was when I realized what was happening. Caspian was waiting to get on board undetected. I whipped my head and screamed, “There,” pointing in the opposite direction. “Boats. Dozens!”
Dom and the others rushed to where I was and stared into the sea, but my assailants held on to me.
“I see nothing,” Dom groaned and motioned at another to hand him some binoculars. This was enough of a distraction and the next thing I knew, Caspian and his men were on board, firing. But their shots didn’t reach close to us, and I knew why. Caspian was afraid of hurting me.
“Retreat,” Dom shouted over the fire. “Retreat.”
The attackers took me with them.
The last thing I saw before they threw me into one of the smaller boats was Gio's body, crumpled on the deck, blood darkening his shirt. Caspian ran through the boat, desperate to reach his fallen brother.
As our boats sped away, Dom turned to me, furious. “Why the hell did you do that? We almost had him?”
I ignored him and instead, let the tears fall down my cheeks.
***
Being back home felt strange and unfamiliar. Dom led me straight to my room and left me there. My old nursemaid Maria came soon after with some tea and cake. When I looked at her, I must have appeared ghastly, for she murmured and reached over, giving me a wordless hug before she left.
My bedroom remained unchanged—the same silk sheets, the same crystal perfume bottles arranged on the vanity, but it no longer felt like mine. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wearing the clothes I'd been rescued in. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Behind my closed eyelids, I kept seeing Gio's body on that deck, being battered and bruised.
I looked up when the door opened without a knock. My eldest brother Gastone strode right in, and his face washed with relief at the sight of me.
“Larissa,” he said, and crossed the room in three strides.
The hug caught me off guard. My brother wasn't usually an expressive man, but this one felt desperate, genuine.
“Carlo and Dino are taking the first flight back,” he whispered as he stepped back, but not before planting a kiss on my forehead. “
I stepped away and concern etched into the lines around his eyes as he wandered over my body, wondering if I was truly safe.
“Thank God you're safe,” he said. “When I heard—”
“I’m fine, Gastone,” I said stiffly.
“Did he—?” Dom growled, unable to finish his sentence as his throat tightened. I knew he was thinking the worst of Gio, even though Gio had been nothing but wonderful. However, for Gio’s safety and for what I wanted, I knew I couldn’t let Dom know.
I shook my head. “They treated me well. I had my own bedroom, anything I wanted.”
His eyes widened with surprise, but he nodded. “Thank God. Thank God you’re back. I can’t believe they would-”
“Why wouldn’t they, Gastone?” I blurted out, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t you know what’s been happening? Of course the Lebedevs hate us, even though I know,” I stepped forward and took my brother’s hands in mine. “I know you didn’t do those things.”
“What are you talking about?” Gastone furrowed his brows. “Stop talking in riddles, sister.”
“Gastone, your men have been acting behind your back. Dom—he’s been leading attacks against the Lebedev operations. They… he… bombed one of their warehouses. People could have died,” I paled as I gave my brother this information. “Not only that, Gastone. I’ve seen things. Your men, they kill their subordinates. Shoot them right dead. You must do something.”
Gastone’s face hardened, and for a moment, a stretched silence lingered between us. I couldn’t imagine how shocked he must be by all this, so I gave him time to process it, waiting patiently.
But then, he let out a sound. A laugh. My world twisted on its axis as he looked at me with scorn. “And you think Dom and the others did those things without me knowing? How weak a leader do you think I am, Larissa?”
“What?” I choked out the question, not understanding what he meant. It couldn’t be. It was impossible thatmy brotherknew the whole time.
“The bombing at the warehouse three months ago,” he said conversationally. “That was me.”
I felt the air suck out of my lungs.
“The attack on their shipment in April. Also me.” He adjusted his cufflinks. “The men being killed on our sites. They’re traitors. Useless.”