I knew by forcing her to work for Corvo, I’d saved her, from herself.

But I'd also saved her from me, and I regretted it every goddamned day.

I watched him fish his phone out of a pocket, and saw a slight tremor in his hand that hadn’t been there before as he read a text—but then his eyes flashed up to meet mine, with dangerously bright intent.

“And I’ve got a surprise on deck for tonight,” he announced, with a glee that made me wince. Nero’s surprises were frequently my irritations—he enjoyed chaos, and he was too used to having his own way.

“What? Your birthday party isn’t for another week,” I said with a grunt.

“No, that’s not it—don’t remind me how old I’m getting,” he said, swiping his hand out.

“The work on the pre-nup is through. I can finally announce Lia’s engagement.”

“Ah,” I said, as flatly as I could, so my jaw didn’t clench and give anything away. “Have you finally decided which of the Senator St. Clair’s sons’ she’s headed for?”

I'd spent what little free time I'd had since Corvo's IPO had been announced stalking the two of them. They had piss poor security, and I'd already figured out a hundred different ways to make things look accidental when they died.

The problem was the Ferreo name. Just because we were a decade out from the most egregious of our mafia shit didn’t mean the cops wouldn’t put two and two together.

And also—God help me—part of me didn’t want to make Lia be a cursed bride. What would it look like if the man she was engaged to mysteriously died? Would she ever get a suitor again? Would I condemn her to spinsterhood over my pride?

“Sons?” Nero asked. “Oh, no, Rhaim—whatever gave you that idea?”

One of my eyebrows rose. “Reality.” 

Nero waved his free hand between us, as if wiping away my concern. “She wouldn't enjoy that. They'd live too long. No, I've promised her to the senator himself.”

“He’s at least sixty,” I hissed in barely concealed horror.

Nero gave me a dour look. “Which is why he’s wealthy, famous, and powerful, of course.”

I had to draw on every power I possessed to blend in and seem uncaring—every time I’d pretended to be bored in a boardroom, relaxed with a gun in my hand, or a knife at my throat—it was as if all of those prior opportunities to feign nonchalance were all training for this moment here, when the effort to not explode was Herculean.

“Have you told her yet?” The question was my only tell, and I couldn’t help myself from asking. But I already knew what the truth was—if he had, she would’ve shown it. She was strong, but not that strong.

Which begged the question why her father was setting her up to be surprised by her engagement in a public setting. Was it a test?

Of her?

Of me?

“He’ll protect her from the vultures once I die,” he said, rather than answer.

“Because he is one.”

“Because it takes one to know one,” Nero said dryly. Then he checked his phone again and grunted softly, before craning his head to find his man Rio at a nearby door. He gave him a meaningful nod, showing off the burn scar on his neck, a souvenir of one of the many times in his life power had come with a price, as he lifted a solitary finger, and Rio nodded back.

Lia’s world was going to implode in one hour—and I had no idea what the fuck I was going to do.

“She’ll never forgive you.”

That earned me a glare from Nero’s deeply hooded eyes. “You think you know my own daughter better than I do?” he asked. “I don’t need her forgiveness—or even her love. I just need her safe.”

And somehow I swallowed down the anger, pride, and desires for violence that were racing through my body like electricity, because as it turned out, I needed that too.

I just didn’t know how many people I was going to have to kill to make it happen.