Luca narrows his eyes. “But if they’ve covered their tracks that well…”
Ivan’s eyes glitter. “I’ll find out if they were involved, even if I have to go there myself to do it. And if they are, I’ll rip them apart.”
Chapter Eighteen
For most of my life I’ve been torn by guilt. Guilt over the demons inside me. Guilt over my gender, my body, my desire. Being born a girl marked me as evil, according to the teachings of Harmony Hills. Even though I’ve been gone for years, I’ve never been able to shake the sense of shame.
I find Ivan in his study. His desk in the Grand is carved wood, contrasting with the stark concrete basement. His desk at home is just the opposite, an industrial construct of slate and steel set in a wood-shelved library. He sits behind the desk, facing the windows behind him.
Dusk creeps over the city, pushing yellow rays through textured windows. From inside you can’t see the bulletproof glass that protects you from the outside.
Ivan doesn’t look up from the photograph he holds. He doesn’t stir when I put a hand on his shoulder. “May I?”
Wordlessly, he holds out the picture. Blurry shapes form a black-and-white panorama. The silhouette of a man is hidden partially by a hood. He’s raising something up. A paintbrush? The brick wall behind him glistens with blood.
“Is it him?” Ivan asks.
I study the man, but he’s only a shadow here. A suggestion. “I can’t tell. I’m sorry.”
Ivan just stares at the windows, chin cupped loosely in his hand. “He never looked at the cameras. Never paused or stumbled, even though it was pitch-black in that alley.”
A knot forms in my throat as I stare at the shadow. “Leader Allen would have called that divine intervention.”
The suggestion of a smile ghosts over Ivan’s lips. “I was thinking inside job.”
“Oh.” Embarrassment washes over me. Of course. That’s how ingrained those teachings are, how unshakable their hold. Dismay tightens its band around my chest as I think about what he said. I don’t want to imagine anyone at the Grand could have betrayed it. “Who are you thinking of?”
“West is new.”
“No. He wouldn’t.”
One eyebrow rises. “Do you know that for sure?”
I look down. The floor is made of thin wooden planks that form diamond shapes. “Blue trusts him.”
“Blue could be involved too.”
Worry claws at my throat. “He’s with Lola.”
A soft laugh. “That doesn’t make him innocent.”
I can’t bear to think Blue is involved, because it would mean Lola isn’t safe. As the owner of the security company, he has complete access to the club. None of the girls would be safe. “Don’t you trust anyone?”
“No,” he says gently. “No one.”
And I know he isn’t talking about West or Blue. He’s telling me that he can’t trust me. That he can’t be with me, not how I want him to, and my heart gives a hard pang.
“There’s something else,” he adds. “Bianca never came back to work after her sudden day off.”
Dread is a deep well inside me, swallowing me whole. “No. I mean it. No. One of the girls would never do this, would never help someone like this.”
“Money is a powerful motivator,” Ivan says, emotionless. “Especially to a woman in trouble. Or she might not have known she was helping him until it was too late.”
I think back to everything I knew about Bianca—and all the girls. I can’t believe they would turn against us this way. Not for anything. Leaving is one thing, but putting the rest of us in danger? “She wouldn’t have.”
“Actually…” Ivan turns his chair to face me. “I don’t suspect her. Not that way. I am considering that she might have been the target of this person all along.”
Fear makes my heart beat faster. “That would mean she’s in trouble.”