Page 98 of The Freedom in Captivity

The man’s lips purse and he narrows his eyes. “Hm. You knowing who I am before I’m even able to introduce myself bothers me, but yes, I amoneof the Seven. It’s in the name, you see. Seven of us. Seven factions.”

“Which stands for what?”

He tsks, shaking his head. “That information is not important. What is, is him.” He crooks two fingers toward his driver, who lifts De Falco’s limp body, tossing him over his shoulders like a sack, and strides right through the wall of our soldiers, who shift out of the way to allow him by them. He drops De Falco unceremoniously at Nico’s feet, causing me to wonder if he’s already dead or if he’ll wake up with a few bruises from the rough treatment.

I study his body, from what I can see of it, given how he’s half curled up, searching for stab wounds or bullet holes, blood or anything indicating injury.

“Is he dead?” Rafael voices my own question.

The strangers gaze shifts from Nico to Rafael with a small smirk. “Rafael Corsetti, Capo.” It’s not a greeting; it’s a threat. A suggestion of exactly how much this person—how much the Seven—knows. “He’s still alive. For now. Figured you’d want the honour yourself. You…or Rose Haynes, in revenge. Although, I suppose she goes by Isabelle Dupont now, correct?”

The comment, his smirk, perhaps both, has Rafael breaking rank and lunging, only to be blocked by Nico, who throws his arm out to the right, turning on his brother with a firm warning to back down. Rafael shoves against his brother.

“Nic, let me go. Theyknowabout her.”

While the brothers battle it out, the stranger waves his hand toward them. “She is in no danger from us at this point. Recently, we were made aware she was still alive. That De Falco,” he turns his glare toward the passed-out man at his feet, “disobeyed our orders in capturing them and had their deaths faked, to lead us astray. And you as well. We will not touch her. Consider it another sign of good faith.”

Good faith from this group seems unlikely.

Rafael, probably thinking the same, pulls from Nico’s hold and glances past us all. All the women are still in Nico’s office and then the realization hits—what if these two aren’t alone? Rafael’s face blanches white and he takes off toward the office.

Once he’s around the corner, Nico treads closer, stopping only two feet away from the stranger. “You continue to mention ‘good faith’ but what is your definition of that?”

Instead of answering, he scans the guns trained on him, and then me, and finally Rosen beside me. “Think this conversation can be more private?”

“We’re fine here. You can also start with your name.”

With a slight shrug and palms open in submission, the stranger starts, “Elijah Reyes. As stated, head of one of the factions and this bastard here,” he kicks out at Stefano’s body, “was by my side at one point. When we realized that Quebec’s crime scene has gone unmanaged, and therefore taken up by another group,” his attention goes to Lorenzo, who was in charge at the time Elijah speaks of, “we wanted it back and had De Falco move to Montreal. With some influence, he slipped right into the city and started battling you. It was supposed to be a quick takeover, but he dragged it out too long. Understanding plans don’t necessarily come to pass swiftly, we left him be. Even helped his growing plots and fostered a union between him and an Italian mob family—an organization we already had ties to and was more than happy to support.”

That would have been the wedding to Rozelyn’s mother.

“With them aligned with Stefano, we figured you’d be willing to talk business then. No one was more surprised than him when she announced a child out of wedlock and asked for his help to locate the girl.”

Which would be Rozelyn. Born before her mother’s marriage to Stefano, from a father unknown to anyone other than the mind and heart of a deceased woman.

“We could have located her easily, but Stefano decided to use this as a means to break through with you. In return for finding the daughter, you agreed to a wedding between her and your eldest son. Everything was in play, and De Falco was on his way to moving up the ranks. We’d gain control of the underground crime here in the province, all while you simply believed you aligned with another mob family. The Seven would remain unknown to you, and all would be well. But then, fate took a turn. You broke off the engagement and some years later, his wife died. That’s when it got messy.

“We called him back, told him he had his chance, but he went rogue. Was determined to make his mark, his point, whatever. He was too sloppy and we nearly took him out ourselves, but after a vote, we decided to wait it out and see how he played it. Worst case, you’d kill him, in which,” Elijah shrugs, uncaring, “the issue would be handled.

“Next thing we know, he’s marrying another woman—a complete outsider—which was not approved. His decision-making was erratic. He started raving about finishing the task even if he had to slaughter you one-by-one to do it. With his new stepdaughters, he sent one to capture you.” He stares at Nico, smirking. “Well, you know the outcome. Beautiful wedding, by the way.”

Nico growls and Rosen glances at me again. It’s disturbing how much Elijah truly knows.

“After that fiasco, De Falco returned to us very apologetic and blubbering about how badly he fucked up. He had, but now, we cut him off. As mentioned, years prior, we decided to be done with him and gave him his final chance, but when he came crawling back to us, expecting us to fix his mistakes—no. But we waited you out. I’ll admit, we were disappointed you haven’t come hunting for him yet.”

So many uses ofwe, it’s becoming obvious, Elijah isn’t a single man part of an organization. Heisthe organization. He is them and they are him. The Seven functions as one. Elijah is merely the messenger.

“We were leaving soon,” Nico says, responding to Elijah’s latest point.

“I’ve saved you the trip.” Tapping his shoe against Stefano, he declares, “I’m here to strike a deal. You get him after a single agreement.”

A beat of silence. Nico’s jaw moves. He rolls his shoulders. Finally: “Which is?”

“Be available when we need you.”

Another break of silence.

“No profits?”

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