Chapter five

Dino’s POV

Madrid is burning.

There is no other way to say so. The city appears to be the same on the outside, the streets are bright, the crowds appear to be carefree, but below all is on fire. My phones keep ringing. Safe houses are broken. Supply lines are cut. There were three attacks within the same hour, and none of them could be considered a coincidence.

This is not chaos.

This is a message.

Marco says, They struck the port again. "Same pattern as before."

"Lock it down," I reply. "No one moves unless I say so."

I put up the telephone and stare at the window. The smoke is well out into the night sky. Somebody is aware of how my place is constructed. Someone knows my timing. Worse, there is one to know where I am weak.

Lucas is behind and says, there is a leak. "This isn't outside anymore."

"I know," I answered.

This kind of damage by an external foe could not occur so quickly. It was only an insider who could break my empire down bit by bit. I designed this system in order to stand the wars, betrayals, and bloodshed. It is being pulled down peacefully now.

Like someone studying me.

I turn away from the window. “Give me all that we got in the last raid.”

Lucas hesitates. "Including her files?"

"Yes," I say. "Especially those files."

He nods and leaves.

Drina.

I had not imagined her to be a member of this. She was nothing more than a bargaining chip. A memory of a former error, a loose thread which I had thought to be in my power. Rather, she is the centre of all the collapse.

The door opens once more. Documents and drives were spread on the table by my men: maps, numbers, coded transactions. I have read this type of information in my entire life, but something does not seem right.

"It doesn't line up," Marco says. “Every single time we follow it, the trail divides.”

I lean forward, scanning the files yet again. Patterns, it’s clever. Too smarty to the gentlemen I am chasing.

This she ought to see, I say impulsively.

The room goes quiet.

Lucas frowns. "You want her in?"

"She already is," I reply. "Bring her."

After a few minutes, Drina comes into the room, on her guard with her alertness. Her arm is bandaged, her face pale, her eyes sharp. She gazes on the table, then at me.

"You called me," she says.

I gesture to the files. "Look."

She wavers and goes nearer. Something different happens as she goes through the documents. She straightens up. Her breathing slows.

"This isn't random," she says.

"I know," I replied. "Tell me what you see."

She refers to a series of transfers. "These delays. They happen every seven days. Whoever did this had time to wait for the reaction.

Marco scoffs. "You’re guessing."

"No," she says firmly. "I’ve seen this before. My father made use of the same models.

I did not anticipate the words to hit as hard as they did.

She goes on, not knowing the tension. "They are testing loyalty. A traitor is revealed beneath every attack. Whoever is too quick to react is exposed.

Silence follows.

I study her closely. She’s no longer afraid. She’s focused.

You are telling me that this was set up to drain people out, I say.

"Yes," she answers. Somebody is cleaning up your house.

I can feel something clinging to me. She is right. The trend becomes evident as soon as you look at it. My men missed it as they were seeking blood, not evidence.

Thou art not useless, Marco mumbles.

She looks him over. "I never was."

And as she goes, my thoughts go after her.

I should feel relieved. Rather, a feeling of apprehension is in my chest. It happened that I saw her standing there, frozen, about to die, during the gunfire that had filled the halls, and the walls were shaking during the earlier attack. My body moved before my mind.

That terrifies me.

I have buried men and nothing more. I have commanded murders with constant hands. Yet I had a feeling of losing her, and it broke something within me.

Attachment is a weakness.

And I feel it growing.

Later that evening, I happened to find her alone on the terrace, gazing at the city lights. The guards are off and provide us with space. She does not run away when I approach her.

"You should be resting," I say.

"I'm not tired," she replies.

The silence interposed between us.

You rescued me today, she says at last. "Why?"

I don’t answer right away. The truth is dangerous.

Because you are worth something, I tell you, instead.

She laughs softly. "You’re lying."

I meet her gaze. You are not aware of your stand.

"Then explain," she says.

I exhale slowly. Your parents had been engaged in something more than they had thought. They discovered facts that were a menace to big individuals. I was one of them."

But she listens, her jaw tightening.

I have not ordered them to be killed, I go on. "But I didn’t stop it either."

I think that makes you responsible, she says.

"Yes," I admit.

Her eyes are bright, and yet she does not weep. I should rather be bothered by that strength than tears.

"And now?" she asks.

Now the same folks that were in thy family are on mine empire, I say, and you are the only one who knows how.

She steps back. "You’re asking me to help you."

"I'm giving you a choice," I reply.

I move nearer and talk in a lower tone. "You can escape tonight. I will arrange it. New name. New life."

Her breath catches.

"Or," I continue, "you can stay. Cause me to pull down all that lied against you, all that spoiled your family, that believed you were not anything.

The city hums below us, unaware of the war being decided on this terrace.

Drina looks at me, conflict shows across her face. Hatred. Fear. Something else I do not name.

“And if I stay?” she asks.

“Then you stand beside me,” I say. “And there will be no turning back.”

She says nothing.

The silence is her answer.

Or maybe it is the start of something far more dangerous.