Page 198 of Arrow

Arrow’s thumb traced the inside of my wrist, following the delicate blue veins there. The tenderness of the gesture felt more intimate than any of the ways he’d claimed my body before.

“No,” he agreed. “It’s not just business.”

We rode in silence for several minutes, the city lights painting his face in alternating shadows and gold. I watched his profile, cataloging each angle and plane as if seeing him for the first time. The sharp jaw that tightened when he was angry. The full lips that could deliver both cruelty and unexpected gentleness. The eyes that saw through every defense I’d ever built.

“What happens after tomorrow?” I asked, my voice barely audible above the hum of the engine.

Arrow turned to me, his expression unreadable. “We rule together. We build something new from the ashes of our families’ war.”

“And if my father tries to use me against you?”

“He’ll fail,” Arrow said with absolute certainty. “Because he fundamentally misunderstands what’s between us.”

His answer was frustratingly vague, yet somehow still managed to make my pulse race. I turned away, watching the city blur past the window. Buildings glowed against the night sky—some dark, some blazing with light, like stars fallen to earth. Tomorrow I’d be married in a cathedral filled with people who wanted us dead. My father expected me to betray Arrow. Arrow expected... what exactly? For me to be his queen? His partner? His possession?

“You never told me what happened,” I said suddenly. “With my brother.”

I felt him go perfectly still beside me, his breath catching. The air in the car seemed to thicken, charged with tension.

“You want to talk about that now? The night before our wedding?”

“When is better?” I turned to face him. “If I’m going to stand in that cathedral tomorrow and say vows to you, I need to know the truth.”

Arrow’s jaw tightened, that familiar muscle jumping beneath his skin. He stared straight ahead, his profile sharp against the passing lights. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen that way,” he finally said, his voice low. “It was meant to be a meeting. Territory negotiations.”

“And?”

“Your brother came with four men. I was there with my uncle Dmitri.” Arrow’s voice grew tight, as if the words were physically painful to speak. “The agreement was simple—neutral ground, minimal security. A gesture of good faith.”

I held my breath, afraid that if I interrupted him now, he’d close off again. The car’s interior suddenly felt smaller, the air between us charged with ghosts.

“The meeting was going as expected. Tense, but productive. Luca was always different from your father. More pragmatic. He saw the potential in cooperation rather than endless bloodshed.”

Arrow’s fingers tightened around mine, almost painfully.

“Then one of your brother’s men made a move. Reached for something inside his jacket. My uncle reacted first—shot him before he could draw. After that . . .” He shook his head. “Chaos. Everyone firing. Tables overturned. By the time it ended, three of Luca’s men were dead.”

“And Luca?” I whispered.

Arrow met my eyes. “I didn’t kill him. That was my uncle. But I didn’t stop it either. I could have stepped between them. I didn’t.”

“Tell me how. Every detail.”

“My father told my uncle to send a message. And my uncle was unhinged—my father’s dog. He tied him to a chair and tortured him. Luca was conscious throughout it all. My uncle carved pieces off him—first his fingers, then his ears. Each slice was methodical, designed to maximize pain and terror.”

“Your uncle tortured him to death?” My eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t breathe for a moment, the image of my brother—strong, proud Luca—being dismembered while conscious searing itself into my mind.

“Not to death.”

The confession hung in the air between us. I tried to picture it—my brother’s last moments, gunfire and shouting, blood on marble floors.

“Was it a setup?” I asked. “Did someone want the meeting to fail?”

My heart felt like it was being crushed in my chest.

“I don’t know if it was a setup,” Arrow continued. “There were rumors afterward—whispers that someone wanted the peace talks to fail. Your father’s name came up,” he said quietly. “There were those who thought he sabotaged the meeting.”