Page 80 of Reaper’s Wrath

Once I have her, nothing else will matter.

In the meantime, I have business to attend to, which is why I’m meeting with Michael and Drake on the bridge.

“What’s the latest on those listening devices at Ruban’s place?” I ask Drake, who’s been in charge of the men monitoring the recordings.

“They’re working, and we’ve gotten tidbits, but nothing substantial yet. I’d say it’s only a matter of time.”

“What about you?” I turn to Michael. “Your men on the street hear anything lately?” When he walked away from the Bratva, several loyal men asked to stick with him. I couldn’t house them all. Some stayed and are essentially undercover while a few others went into hiding on their own. We’ve used them all as resources when we can.

“Nothing from my guys, but I did get a message from your brother.”

“How the fuck did DiAngelo get you a message?” Snapping at him has nothing to do with how the message was delivered and entirely to do with me being pissed that I can’t avoid my brother any longer.

“He sent word to Nico. I guess he figured out we’re connected when he saw Nico at the restaurant after we left.”

I grimace. Can’t do anything about it now. “What’s the message?”

“He left his number. Said he wants to talk.” Michael hands me a scrap of paper with a number on it.

I stash the paper in my pocket. “Great, thanks,” I say dryly. I’d rather do literally anything else.

“Don’t do that, man. At least put the number in your phone. You might need it.” He’s not my partner or my friend, so I’m not fucking sure why he thinks he can order me around, but I’ll look childish if I don’t listen because the asshole is right.

I shoot him a glare, then put the number in my contacts. As soon as I hit save, the bridge door bursts open, and Isa charges inside. She’s got a small mirror in her hand and outrage in her eyes.

“Tell me you didn’t drug me.”

CHAPTER 42

ISA

It’s been almost a week, and the skin on the back of my neck has gone from tender to itchy. And I can’t see back there, but I’d swear it’s scabbing. I need to figure out what’s going on. I could have ringworm or some other weird infection that needs treatment.

Elio is off working, and I’m not sure I trust his judgment with this sort of thing, anyway. If he’s anything like my dad, he’d shrug off an abscess until something has to be amputated. Instead, I go in search of Evie.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” I ask when she opens her cabin door. “I’m hoping you can tell me if I need to see a doctor.”

“Absolutely, come in and tell me what’s up.” She welcomes me into the cabin she shares with Michael. It’s a bit messy, which is understandable considering they’ve been living here for months. I can’t imagine being stuck on a boat for that long, even a luxury yacht with all its amenities.

I twist my hair up to uncover my neck and turn. “What do you think of this—is it a rash or maybe fungal? It burned at first, but now it’s mostly itchy.”

“As far as I can tell, that’s pretty normal-looking for a new tattoo.”

Her matter-of-fact assessment snags in my ear and plays on repeat.

Normal-looking… for a new tattoo.

Slowly, I swivel to face her and see if she’s serious. “New … tattoo?”

Her green eyes widen, and her face goes white. “You didn’t know,” she whispers.

“New … tattoo?” I ask with more force.

Evie cringes.

“What the hell do I have tattooed on the back of my neck?” I demand.

“It’s actually really pretty. Whoever did it is talented.”