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I shoot her a glance, wondering what the claws are all about.
“He’s here.” Her a
I follow the angle of her vision to see her father striding forward from the other side of the cemetery, weaving in and out of gravestones in his flawless suit and tie with matching thugs flanking him on either side.
I’ve never seen the guy in person. Only in family photos in the restaurant or online. But it isn’t hard to recognize him. He’s an older version of his son. Broad shoulders. Stern face. The guy demands respect without saying a word.
Everyone remains still as he approaches, bringing a halt to the proceedings as he greets his eldest daughter with a hug. Then Cole with a handshake.
Keira bristles at the shared affection, and I can’t help doing the same.
“It’s all for show,” Hunter murmurs. “Torian knows what he’s doing.”
I have to trust his faith because I have none of my own.
Cole is supposed to be kill the man before him. His own flesh and blood. Yet, here he is playing happy families.
I cup Keira’s biting hand and squeeze. “Do you want to go over and see him?”
“No. It doesn’t feel right.”
“I don’t think there’s a right way to feel about this, honey,” Hunter drawls.
“I know. But I thought I’d feel remorse at the sight of him.” She meets my gaze, staring back at me in confusion. “And I don’t. All I see is a monster.”
“There’s no rulebook here. And no judgment.” I wipe the stray hair away from her cheeks. “You feel whatever you need to. It’s the only way you’ll get through this.”
She crumples, her shoulders wilting as she nestles in front of me and wraps my arms around her waist.
Luther moves to stand between his children, his granddaughter before him, the goons at his back, when Torian inclines his head at the officiant to continue.
Adrenaline eats away at my veins while fabricated good deeds are recited to a silent crowd. We’re painted a story of a man who never existed. A philanthropist. A devoted uncle and cherished brother.
Over and over the lies continue, twisting my stomach and making me livid.
But I’ll have my peace soon.
The sweet taste of victory is on its way.
A few sobs ring out when the coffin is lowered a foot. Stella wails. People sniff.
I don’t think anyone really cares except that little girl. She’s the only one naive to Richard’s actions and capabilities.
My heart breaks for her. Not only did she lose an uncle, she lost a fairytale, and one day the truth will come out to reveal a reality darker than her worst nightmares.
“I’d now like to call upon anyone who would like to place petals or sand in the grave as a personal goodbye.” The officiant turns to the gazebo, offering the family the first opportunity.
Luther sidesteps Stella to move forward, away from his henchmen and toward the grave. He grabs a handful of petals as he passes, every set of eyes watching his movements. He scatters the offering, his actions delicate, then kisses his clenched fist and thumps it down on the coffin.
Keira jolts with the impact, her body trembling against mine.
There’s a rustle of noise behind me, and a broad, middle-aged man bumps my shoulder to break through the crowd, his enthusiasm to throw sand on a dead guy outweighing his ma
“Watch it,” I mutter.
He ignores me and continues toward the grave. “Luther Torian?”
Keira’s father scowls at the intrusion, openly hostile at the man stupid enough to call his name.
The stranger doesn’t falter, his stride strong as he holds out a hand. “I’m Special Agent Anthony Easton, and you’re under arrest for human trafficking,” he clasps Luther’s palm and retrieves a pair of cuffs with his left, “and solicitation involving minors under the age of sixteen.”
Gasps break out in a chorus. Then whispers and growing chatter.
Keira freezes. So do I.
All of us—Hunt, Sarah, Torian, and Layla—watch in horror as the agent takes charge of the scene.
“You have the right to remain silent.”
“No.” Torian stalks forward. “Stop.”
Keira turns to me, her eyes pleading the same denial.
If Luther goes to jail, his crimes won’t end. He will hire the best lawyers. He’ll pay everyone and anyone to get him out of there. Then he’ll disappear.
He won’t go to prison.
He won’t die for his sins.
He’ll be free.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Torian doesn’t shout, he seethes, the words holding enough venom to filter through the gathering.
The agent continues without pause. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Luther’s goons approach, but so do more unfamiliar men and women in the crowd, all of them pulling badges from pockets in a mass show of authority.
“Jesus,” I hiss. They’re everywhere. “That’s the reason you didn’t recognize half these people. They’re all Feds.”
Keira grabs my shirt, clinging to the material. “Do something. Please.”
Fuck. Her plea tears me apart, and there’s nothing I can do.
I can’t save her this time. I vowed I wouldn’t get involved, and Torian knows I’ve kept my end of the deal. I won’t lose her now. Not even at the expense of my revenge.
“We’ll figure something out.” Sarah places a hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t the end.”
The agent doesn’t quit reciting the Miranda rights as he hikes Luther’s hands behind his back and leads the silent man to the long line of cars.
“Everyone move,” a woman shouts. “Make way.”
“Anissa.” Her name slips from my lips. That fucking bitch.
“Keira, you need to start making calls.” Hunter hands over his phone. “Prepare your legal team.”
“Why?” Her brows knit.
I lean close, placing my mouth near her ear. “This game is far from over. We both know he’ll get out. And when he does, he needs to know you made every effort to protect him.”
“I want to speak to Cole first.” The device trembles in her hand as she stares at her brother now talking to Anissa. “What is she saying to him?”
“I don’t know.”
I’m not sure I want to. Not when the look on her face says she’s enjoying the victory.
Keira starts toward them, and I follow close at her back, neither of us making it to Cole before Anissa saunters after the rest of her team.
“What did she say to you?” Keira demands.
“A lot of things.” His lips press tight for a moment, his anger barely contained. “She has the impression we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other in the future.”
“She said that?” Sarah snarls from behind me. “She comes to your uncle’s funeral, arrests your father, then lays more threats?”
That’s Anissa—thirty percent cocky, seventy percent bitch.
“What are you going to do?” I hitch my chin at Torian. “Apart from the legal team moving into action, what’s your plan?”
His jaw ticks, his narrowed eyes still focused on Anissa as she saunters to the mass of cars parked along the narrow cemetery road. “I’m going to give that woman exactly what she wants.”