Chapter 47

**Torin POV**

Hours into the night, my phone shrieks, jerking me awake.

I grope the bedside table, snatching the flashing device. "There better be a good reason for this."

"There is," responds a nasally, irksome voice.

I slouch up to lean on my elbow. "Senator," I greet lethargically.

*A puppet of mine.* A high-rank in the upper chamber of Congress, sharing full legislative power with oversight of all branches of the federal government. A powerful puppet.

"I noticed that the Zenith's kickbacks have ceased."

I fling off the blanket, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, my feet meeting the cold glazed floor. "My apologies, Senator. But I no longer have operational control. You could say that... I defected." A smile teases my lips. "I see things have already gone awry in my absence."

Though Zenith has an entire top-tier management team that handles both the legal, profitable side and the less legal, but very profitable, enterprise. I was the one that micro-managed. I was the fabric of the empire. And without it me, everything will unravel from the seams. Orian forgets that all his elite political allies serve him, though association to me. Leverage that I used to strong-arm them into servitude. Let's see how many stay once they learn I've walked.

The line is silent. There's a long pause until he speaks up again. "You defected?" he repeats for clarification.

"Affirmative." I stand up. "But our deal still stands." I stroll aimlessly. "The only difference is now you're going to be taking your orders from me. Directly."

A cackle chimes down the line. "This sounds more like a coup. If you plan to take your shot at the king. For your sake. You better not miss."

I mimic his maddening laugh mockingly. "Senator, I took my shot years ago."

I end the call. I look beyond the succession of floor-to-ceiling windows, starlight pooling around the rims of the bedroom. Blind to the prime view of the skyline, I narrow my eyes down at the main terrace, a feminine figure darting back and forth, throwing punches at an invisible opponent.

I walk back and exit the suite, hurling the phone on top of the bed on my way out. I saunter along the catwalk before I descend the staircase to the ground floor. And I travel through the widespread, free-flowing interior with chateau floorboards bathed in moonbeams. I pass through the open sliding door, my bare chest lashed by the whip of the cold.

Hadassah has her back to me, wearing a black fitted hoodie and tights.

"Can't sleep?"

She continues shadowboxing, her breathing laboured.

I walk around to stand in front of her. Her hoodie is unzipped, wearing nothing beneath but a black sports bra. Skin speckled with droplets of sweat, starlight causing them to shimmer faintly.

"Nightmare?"

Her gaze remains trained in front of her like's she's imagining someone in particular. "You need to sleep in order to get nightmares."

"You need to rest."

"I can't." She intensifies her ferocity, utterly destroying her unseen foe. Throwing one last punch in the air before she yanks her hoodie off. "My family is in danger because of me. So many people died because of me—"

My mouth flies open.

"—and don't you dare lie to me and say it ain't." She jabs her finger at me. Then she stabs it at her chest. "Because if I didn't take that book. I would've never met you—never met him. And I wouldn't have another drug lord after me, this time, enraged by vengeance. It might as well have been me who killed him—them."

"Hey." My voice is too harsh. Injecting gentleness, I try again, "The fault belongs to Orian alone. You never told him to commit a massacre."

"But he did it because of me."

"It's not your fault my brother is a fucking psychopath, Hadassah. Yeah, a lot of things could've worked out differently if other choices were made. But it's done. You can't change what happened, but you have control of what will."

She nods, several times. "You're right. I do. And I'm not going to be single-handedly responsible for causing a—a shadow war between three different syndicates. It all started because Gaza wanted to reclaim his property, but now it's more than that..."

*I don't like where this is going.*

She turns her back on me and wrings out her hands. Then she faces me again. "Only I can get Santos to back down. I turn myself in, that way—"

"Shut the fuck up." The skin-searing scorch within mutes the midnight chill. "We didn't go through all of this shit just to have you quit like a little bitch."

She gapes at me, mouth rounding.

"If you do, all those deaths are for nothing. You job hasn't changed, investigator. Catch and expose criminal leaders."

Her brow billows dubiously. "Aren't you one of them?"

"Except for me. After that's done, you let the justice system do its job."

Her face warps into a wrathful look. "The justice system is not only flawed, it's corrupt."

"Oh, I know," I say with an irrepressible chuckle. "Why do you think people like me, who deserve to be serving a thousand life sentences, are ever-thriving?"

"So what's the point? Even if you dismantle Orian's powerful organisation. And expose his crimes. I'm sure he can just get some official to get him out. Why do you think I was on to Zenith for so many years? You both made irrefutable charges disappear like it was nothing. He'll never be incarcerated."

I bob my head. "If his chargers were limited to illicit trade. But my brother is guilty of war crimes, treason, something no one in government can absolve him from. With all you know about him... you still haven't seen the worst of him."

She sucks in a sharp breath. "Believe me, I've seen enough."

I can see the theories clamouring in her eyes. "This only ends one way. Santos won't stop until he gets what he wants." She blinks fast, her chest rising. "And neither will your brother."

"That's the cost of war. After we ally with Tommaso to take down Santos. It will only be Orian left. And I plan to be the last one standing."

Her brows crease. "You're awfully confident."

Because I always have an ace up my sleeve. "Why wouldn't I be? I have you by my side."