Page 136 of Arrow

“This isn’t about territory anymore,” Orion added. “It’s about succession.”

My father’s words echoed in my head. Don’t disappoint me. The old bastard was setting up a test—one I wasn’t meant to pass. If I killed Giovanni, I’d lose Harlowe. If I didn’t, I’d look weak. Either way, I’d fail in my father’s eyes.

“What does Harlowe know?” Atlas asked.

“She’s not a part of this.”

Atlas studied me. “You keep saying that. What makes you so sure?”

“Because she hates him more than she could ever hate me.” I took a sip of the whiskey Atlas had waiting for me. “Giovanni kept her in a cage, beating the shit out of her for her defiance, then he sold her to me without blinking.”

“And you think that’s enough to turn a daughter against her father? The only family she has left?” Atlas asked.

“I know it is.” I thought of the way she’d looked at Giovanni across the party, the cold hatred in her eyes. The way she’d held herself perfectly still, like she was counting the steps between them and deciding if she could cross the distance with a knife before security stopped her.

“You’re taking a hell of a risk,” Orion said.

I shrugged. “Life’s boring without a few risks.”

Atlas leaned forward. “This isn’t about risk, it’s about survival. If you’re wrong about her⁠—”

“I’m not.”

“—then you’re putting all of us in danger. Not just yourself.”

The implication stung. I’d never put Atlas, Luna, or Orion at risk—they were the only family worth having in this mess. But I couldn’t explain what I felt for Harlowe. How could I make them understand what I barely understood myself?

“Give me time,” I said finally. “I need to find out what Giovanni’s planning.”

“The wedding’s in two weeks,” Atlas reminded me.

“Time’s almost up,” I said.

“Always is in this game.” Atlas knocked back the rest of his drink. “Watch your back. With the wedding this close, someone’s going to make a move. If it isn’t Giovanni, it’ll be your father.”

The thought of my father touching Harlowe made something primitive rise in my chest. “Let them try.”

I left Atlas and Orion at the speakeasy, my mind racing. Manhattan never fully slept, but at this hour, it dozed—a predator with one eye open, waiting for the next meal to stumble by.

My phone vibrated in my pocket—a message from Frank.

She’s awake. Asking for you.

I stared at the message, trying to ignore the twisting in my gut. Harlowe asking for me, wanting me, it shouldn’t have made my pulse quicken like that.

I tucked my phone away and got into the car.

The city blurred past the window, all neon smears and shadowed corners. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Atlas and Orion had said. Was I compromised? Had I let myself become vulnerable over a woman who might still be playing for her father’s team?

No. I knew what I saw in her eyes when she looked at Giovanni. That wasn’t an act.

When I reached the penthouse, I found her standing at the window, wearing nothing but my shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders. She didn’t turn when I entered, but I saw her body tense, recognizing my presence.

“You left,” she said, her voice quiet but accusing.

“Had business.” I shrugged off my jacket, letting it fall to the floor. “You were sleeping.”

Now she turned, and I saw something dangerous in her eyes. Not anger, but something deeper. “Business with your father?”