Page 49 of Diary from an Inked Throne

I blinked. “I know.”

He breathed out a long breath, clearly trying to settle his emotions. “So we need the entire world to know Enzo’s face. For our search party to go from a hundred men to millions. So no matter which state he goes to, someone will recognize him.” He slowly raised his head. “I think I have an idea.”

16

LUCA

Dear Diary,

X handled the awkward questions better than I did. That’s deeply concerning.

There wasn’t much that was nice in Saint View, but the hockey rink was one of the few new buildings, and therefore, wasn’t ready for a bulldozer. I doubted anyone would have called it state-of-the-art, but it was a hell of an improvement over the old one, which still stood, growing more and more derelict every day.

We passed it on the way to the press conference. I walked into it with Lynx at my side, Nyah and Dax just behind us, who’d insisted on coming along for support.

I’d hired the largest conference room in a coworking space, since the rink might have been nice, but definitely didn’t have a room big enough for the amount of press I’d invited to come along. Not unless I’d been willing to set up chairs on the ice. Which might have been a nice gimmick, but I couldn’t afford a lawsuit if one of the journalists or photographers slipped in their kitten heels and fell.

They all sat in rows, the staff at the coworking space having pushed the table to one end of the room and filling the rest of it with chairs.

The questions started as soon as we walked in, but I ignored them all, my gaze too focused on the front of the room, where French, Devenish, and X sat at a table decorated with a Saint View Vipers logo.

X spotted us and waved excitedly, practically bouncing on his chair.

French’s reaction was decidedly less golden retriever and distinctly more black cat. His jaw clenched, and he turned away.

“What are they doing here?” I asked Lynx beneath my breath.

He looked over at me in surprise. “It’s a team press conference. I figured we should have at least a couple of the players here.”

Dax snorted at X posing for one of the photographers. “What was the reasoning behind inviting him?”

Lynx gestured in X’s direction. “For this. Everyone loves him.”

“Not sure they’d still love him if they knew he attended Murder Squad group meetings whenever he was feeling stabby…” I mumbled.

Lynx elbowed me. “Don’t call it that, especially not here where people might overhear. And can you try smiling? Why are you in such a bad mood anyway? This press conference was your idea.”

“They weren’t supposed to be here.” I nodded toward the table.

Lynx stopped. “The team is worth saving.”

I sighed heavily and pushed past him. “We’ll see if you still feel like that at the end of this.”

His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What does that mean?”

I shook my head. He’d see soon enough.

I took one of the empty seats, leaving the one next to French for Lynx. Dax and Nyah both stood against the side wall, next to a woman I was pretty sure was French’s sister. She beamed at him proudly and leaned in to whisper to Nyah, before flashing French a very sisterly thumbs-up. Nyah gave me an encouraging smile, like she thought I might be nervous or something.

She was right. I was. But probably not for the reasons she thought.

One of the staff members handed me and Lynx microphones, and the entire table turned to me, waiting for me to kick things off. “First, I want to thank—”

The reporters clearly weren’t interested in pleasantries. One shouted out, interrupting me. “Luca Guerra. You’re the team owner, but you were reported dead just a couple of months ago.”

I brought the microphone to my mouth. “As you can see, very much not dead.”

“So how do you explain your father telling the world you were?”