Page 89 of Shadow Of Sin

“Is your head right?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

“No,” I say. “It hasn’t been right since the night I sat on your stoop.”

Her mouth twitches. “That’s either super romantic or major red flag raising.”

I shrug. “Probably both.”

“Probably.” She looks back at her screen. “Now shut up and work. If you haven’t noticed, your brother doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Neither do I.”

She smiles. “Then we’re on the same page.”

I open my laptop and start working. Her knee presses against mine under the table. Neither of us moves away.

Ronan wants my full attention.

He’ll learn to share.

CHAPTER 21

EVA

Three hours. That’s how long it took me to map every deal Dmitri can blow up next. Ronan read my report, nodded once, and said “good work.” I almost checked behind me to see who he was talking to.

As I walk out of his office, my phone buzzes with a news alert from The Boston Globe. I almost choke at the headline that appears on my screen.

Confidential Data Breach Forces Collapse of $42M DiMicheli Deal

Fuuuuck.

I’m about to look for Wolfe when Adriana walks into the house carrying three garment bags over her arm. Behind her is a younger woman around my age. She’s tall, thin, and has eyes that literally sparkle.

“I’m not sure if you’ve seen or heard the news yet, but we have some damage control to do over dinner tonight. You need to get dressed,” Adriana says.

“I’m coming?” I ask, furrowing by brows.

“Absolutely. It’s all part of the plan. So you need to ditch the band t-shirt and pick out one of these,” Adriana says, holding up the bags. “I brought options, and my sister, because she’s better at this than I am.”

The sister steps forward, flashing a smile that could easily blind someone. She has dark hair that falls past her shoulders, and the kind of face that belongs on a magazine cover. But her energy is completely different from her sister. Where Adriana is steel and strategy, this woman is warm and bright. The kind of person who walks into a room and makes the temperature shoot up about ten degrees.

“Luna,” she says, extending her hand. “And before you ask, yes, I’m the fun one.”

“Eva.” I shake her hand. “And I have no idea what’s happening.”

“What’s happening,” Adriana says, “is dinner. Tonight. We’re all going to a restaurant in Back Bay that every power player in Boston has eyes on. After the Globe article hit, we need to be seen together. The Molloys and DiMichelis at the same table, looking strong, united, and not a bit worried about that asshole Dmitri Kozlov.”

“And you need me there because...?”

“Because Dmitri will have people watching. And when they report back that the woman who defected from his operation is sitting at a table with both families, it sends a very specific message.”

“What message?”

“That you chose us. Publicly. Visibly. And that we chose you back.”

My lips twist into a grimace. “Isn’t that painting a target on my head—or on Sal’s?”

Adriana shakes her head. “Dmitri already knows where you are. He broke into your apartment. He called Wolfe’s phone. The target is already painted, Eva.” Adriana unzips the first bag. “The question is whether you hide from it, or you stare it down.”