Sweet Salvation (Ruthless Games 3)

There isn’t even a progress bar to let me know how close the transfer is to being complete, and my heart slams unevenly against my ribs as my gaze darts between the screen and the flash drive.

Then Theo’s phone vibrates again. He glances down, then back up at me, nodding once. “It’s done. Grab it and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

I yank the flash drive from the port with shaking fingers, then pull out the connector too.

Shoving them both into their hiding spots in my dress, I join Theo by the door. He peers outside once more and gestures me forward.

It takes everything I have not to sprint down the hallway as we make our way back to the ballroom. We got what we came for, but I won’t be able to relax until we’re out of this fucking house and safe at Theo’s place.

We slip through the same door we left by, and my gaze immediately scans the crowd, looking for Ryland and Marcus. Marcus is still talking to Victoria, and Ryland has joined him. They both glance up as we enter, and although their faces are carefully neutral, I can almost feel the relief emanating from them.

Theo rests a hand on my lower back, and we start to navigate our way through the clusters of people toward the two other men. But when we’re halfway there, movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention.

A man in a black suit enters from a door at the back of the room.

He could just be another guest, another party-goer. But somehow, I know he’s not. Maybe it’s in the purposeful way he walks as he strides toward Luca, or maybe it’s the stoic expression on his face as he leans in to speak to the older man.

My heart drops.

Fuck.

Chapter 8

My footsteps slow, and I can feel Theo tense beside me. He’s noticed the man talking to Luca too.

“What do we do?” I whisper, my skin prickling with nerves.

“Get to Marcus and Ry. Luca’s vicious, but he’s careful about violence on his own turf. It’s part of the reason he’s managed to amass as much power as he has without getting arrested.”

Theo’s voice is a thousand times calmer than I feel, but his fingers dig into my back as he urges me forward. Ryland and Marcus break away from Victoria to meet us, but as we reach them, a voice booms over the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here tonight.”

I look up to see Luca standing on the small platform at one end of the room, a microphone in his hand. He’s standing in the same spot where he congratulated Victoria and Marcus on their engagement last time, and my stomach turns over as dread unfurls inside me.

What the fuck is he about to say?

“I’m grateful that so many of you were able to attend,” Luca continues, his voice smooth and deep. “As many of you know, I’ve been considering retirement for some time now, and I admit, these gatherings help me see who is doing well in our fair city. Who may be worthy of doing even better.” He pauses, seeming to consider his next words. “Unfortunately, there are three people who, although once under consideration, have fallen out of the running.”

My breath stops as he looks toward me and the men.

Fuck, no.

He found out. I don’t know how he found out, but he knows we know.

And now he’s going to unleash hell.

“Marcus Constantine, Theo Harrington, and Ryland Bennett,” Luca intones, his voice grave. “I had such high hopes for all three of you. But I’m afraid none of you bear the mark of a true leader. You cannot be trusted, and trust is the foundation of every relationship. Mors tua, vita mea.”

I don’t know what the last words mean, but he speaks them solemnly. Then he turns to survey the rest of the crowd, all of whom have gone deathly silent. “Those of you who are still under consideration—and I believe you know who you are—will receive my true gratitude if you are able to prove your loyalty.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Victoria stiffen, her gaze darting around the room. Michael Saviano reacts to Luca’s words too. I can’t see his face well from where I’m standing, but his body language tells me plenty.

He looks like he’s ready for a fucking fight.

Luca, in contrast, appears utterly relaxed and at ease as he surveys the crowd once more. Then, with a quiet nod, he replaces the microphone in the stand and steps down from the small platform.

A low hum of conversation builds slowly around us, but something about it feels… off. Forced. Like no one really wants to be talking, but they’re afraid to let the silence linger too long.