Chapter 6
I should have felt hope.
I didn't.
Hope after eleven months of mourning feels dangerous.
Like stepping onto ice you know is thin because someone told you there might be land underneath.
I looked at Celeste.
“Where is Alessia?”
“I don't know.”
Preston laughed.
I turned toward him.
“You do.”
He shrugged.
“You've finally caught up.”
I walked over.
“Where?”
“You can't reach her.”
“Try me.”
Grace stood.
“Raffaele.”
I didn't look away from Preston.
“What?”
“He doesn't know exactly.”
Preston's smile faded.
I looked at Grace.
“You do?”
“No.”
“Then why say that?”
“Because the Vale crew moved her repeatedly.”
“How would you know?”
Grace said nothing.
Celeste slowly turned toward her mother.
“Mom.”
Grace looked tired suddenly.
Older than sixty-four.
“I received proof she was alive.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“Every month.”
I could barely speak.
“For eleven months?”
“Yes.”
Celeste stood.
“You told me she was dead.”
Grace didn't look at her.
“I needed you to believe it too.”
Celeste's face changed.
Not guilt.
Betrayal.
Good.
Let her feel some.
I looked at Grace.
“Why keep Alessia alive?”
Grace swallowed.
“Because Alessia's brother still commands men.”
I knew.
Marco DeLuca.
Not a boss.
Something more irritating to enemies.
A man with thirty loyal soldiers who followed him because they loved him.
He had vanished from our city after Alessia's funeral.
I thought grief had driven him away.
Now I understood.
“They used her against Marco.”
Grace nodded.
“To keep him neutral?”
“Yes.”
“Against me?”
“Yes.”
Preston spoke from behind me.
“Vale didn't want a war on two fronts.”
I looked at him.
“So they took my wife and forced her brother to stand down.”
“Yes.”
“And you helped.”
“Yes.”
At least he had stopped pretending.
“What did you get?”
“A place.”
“Where?”
“In the new order.”
I smiled.
“You still believe that?”
His expression shifted.
Very slightly.
Interesting.
“You think Vale intends to reward you.”
Preston said nothing.
I walked closer.
“Men who buy traitors don't trust them.”
“Spare me.”
“You gave them routes. Guards. My wife.”
His jaw tightened.
“And when you're no longer useful?”
Grace whispered, “He's right.”
Preston turned on her.
“You shut your mouth.”
There.
Fear.
Finally.
I pressed.
“When was the last proof of life?”
Grace answered.
“Eight days ago.”
“What did it show?”
“Alessia sitting in a stone room.”
“Anything else?”
“A fireplace.”
“Window?”
“No.”
“Sound?”
Grace thought.
“Bells.”
I stared.
“What kind?”
“Church bells.”
Celeste sat up.
“How many?”
Grace looked at her.
“What?”
“How many times?”
“I don't remember.”
Celeste became pale.
“I do.”
Everyone looked at her.
“My grandmother used to take us north in summer.”
Preston's face changed.
Another answer.
Celeste saw it.
“You know.”
“No.”
She stood.
“You know exactly where she means.”
I looked at Preston.
He had stopped smiling.
Celeste continued.
“Vale owns an old monastery property outside Briar Hill.”
Preston said nothing.
“Stone rooms.”
Still nothing.
“A bell tower.”
I walked toward him.
“When were you going to tell me?”
He laughed.
“You think she's still there?”
That wasn't denial.
I turned to my men.
“Prepare cars.”
Grace stood.
“You can't just go.”
I looked at her.
“Watch me.”
“Vale will kill her if they see you coming.”
That stopped me.
Because she was right.
I hated that.
I looked back at Preston.
He smiled again.
And suddenly I understood why he had been so calm.
He wasn't protected by strength.
He was protected by Alessia.
As long as I didn't know exactly where she was or who watched her, every move I made could kill my wife.
Preston leaned back against the wall.
“Now you understand.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I understand something else.”
“What?”
“You're the only person in this room Vale still thinks I trust.”
May you like
His smile vanished.
And for the first time that night, Preston Hale realized he might be more useful to me alive than he had ever been to them.
