Page 65 of Devil’s Reign

She doesn’t mean it as a dig, but it still stings. My chin lifts stubbornly. “I’m not a prisoner anymore. Remember how I got caught in the rain earlier?” I point at my still-damp hair.

“You were outside today? Has Ivan decided to let you go?”

“I was outside.” The rooftop counts as outside. “I’ll talk to Vanya about it. He’ll let me go.”

Her frown deepens. “You mean you’ll ask his permission?”

“Why do you hate him so much? Judging by what you just told me, you knew all along that he wasn’t involved in Luciano’s disappearance, and yet you let me believe he was.”

Her face closes off. “He’s a mafioso. Even if he’s not involved in Luciano’s disappearance, I’m sure he’s made many other men disappear. That’s just their nature. I don’t want that for you.”

My lips thin, though I know she’s right. Hell, I saw him kill a man right before my eyes, didn’t I? But still I say, “Vanya isn’t what you think. There’s more to him than that. You can’t box him into one category and call it understanding. He’s like an onion. He has layers.”

My mind drifts back to the small things. The way he had a whole library built for me just because I mentioned liking books. The little note he left because I asked for one. The mountain of food he had prepared for me. The necklace burning a hole in my throat. And the softness in his eyes when he wrapped those towels around me earlier.

“Look at you smiling. You’ve gone and fallen in love with him.”

I can’t deny it this time, but I don’t want to admit it to her either. Not when I haven’t even told the man himself yet. “Everything isn’t black and white,” I say cryptically, and Mamma just shakes her head, a strange expression crossing her face.

For a brief second, I consider telling her what Vanya discovered about Luciano, but decide against it. He told me that in confidence. I’m not going to break his trust. I’ll ask him first, and if he agrees, I’ll tell her then.

“Promise me you won’t go to that meeting,” I say instead. “Promise me, Mamma. Please. I can’t lose you."

Her face softens the slightest bit. “It’s dangerous for you too.”

Not if I can get Vanya to go with me. If anything, he’ll want to be there. These are the people responsible for taking his men off the streets. “It’s safer for me than for you,” I insist. “Promise me, Mamma.”

She’s quiet for a long moment—long enough that I start preparing my argument for the second round. Then she sighs, “If you can actually leave this hotel, I’ll let you go in my place.” She says it like she doesn’t believe that would be possible.

I let her believe it and ask her for the details of the message she saw.

After a moment of hesitation, she grabs a piece of paper and writes everything down—the address, the date, and the time. Then she hands it to me.

I close my fingers around it carefully, feeling the weight of every hope and fear it carries.

33

MELANI

The door to Mamma’s suite opens at my push, and I pause, blinking at it.

It’s unlocked.

Before I can decide what to make of that, Boris steps away from the wall across from the door and approaches me.

“Ready to go back in?” He nods towards the door to Vanya’s suite.

“Yes.” I slip the folded paper into one of my dress pockets and fall into step beside him.

There’s a spring in my stride as we walk, and despite the heaviness of the conversation I just had with my mom, my heart is light. That talk about what happened on the ship has been a long time coming, and finally having it felt… cathartic.

And now I’m this close to getting on equal footing with Vanya. The information Mamma gave me could be a real lead towards finding Luciano, and the possibility alone makes life feel worth living again. And if Luciano isn’t with those people, then at least we might get a lead on Vanya’s missing men. Either way, it’s something.

When we enter the suite, Boris drifts towards the few men loitering by the kitchen. I ignore them and make a beeline for Vanya’s room. But it’s empty. The bathroom and closet are too, so I step back out with a frown.

Boris catches my eye from across the living area. “Office.” He gestures vaguely with his thumb. I mouth a thank-you and head that way.

The office is also empty, but I hear it: the muffled rush of a shower running behind a closed door. My lips curve before I can stop them, the thought arriving uninvited: I could join him. I let it linger for half a second before I dismiss it. If I go in there, we will only get distracted—and we need to talk.