Chapter 4

At the captains' meeting the next day, Chloe was standing at the far end of the long table when I pushed the door open.

A map of the harbor routes was spread out in front of her, her fingertip resting on a small patch of the West Harbor border.

That was the place my father had guarded for half his life.

It was also the last bit of ground the Hart family had left.

"East Harbor's just been cleared out, and the ones who slipped away will most likely try to escape through here."

Chloe's voice was gentle, but it carried clearly to every corner of the room.

"So my suggestion is that for the next seven days, we send men from East Harbor into the West Harbor border to assist."

The room went quiet for a moment.

Only then did she seem to notice me, and she immediately put on a slightly apologetic look.

"Elena, don't take it the wrong way. I'm not trying to muscle in on West Harbor."

"It's just that your father isn't well, and you've had a hard time lately. A small place like this, leave it to my people."

A small place.

I looked at the patch of ground under her fingertip, and my fingers slowly curled.

That was ground my father had kept with his life.

Julian sat at the head of the table, his eyes on the route map.

After a moment, he looked over at me.

"Chloe's right."

"Her people know that East Harbor crew best."

I raised my eyes to him.

"And?"

His brow creased, and his voice dropped.

"It's just a few checkpoints along the West Harbor border. No one's touching your territory."

"Elena, don't drag last night's mood into business."

That captains' meeting all but became Chloe's opening move as the new underboss.

She went from clearing out the East Harbor stragglers, to setting up checkpoints along the border, to rerouting a few of the shipping lines.

Every step landed exactly right.

She never openly crossed me, and yet she got her hands into every corner of what used to be mine.

And Julian sat at the head of the table and never once stopped her.

I sat off to the side and slowly lowered my eyes.

In that moment, it hit me.

It wasn't only Julian who was drifting further and further away.

It was the whole Sinclair family.

Partway through the meeting, Julian stepped out to take a call, and a few of the captains got up and went out to the terrace with him.

Through the half-open door, their low talk drifted back in.

"Did you catch Miss Hart's face just now? Black as a storm cloud."

Someone gave a low laugh.

"Can you blame her? The Don made it plain today. He's backing Miss Ross."

"That's only natural. Look at what the Ross family is. They can stand shoulder to shoulder with the Sinclairs."

"You think the head of the Ross family sent his own daughter over just to have her learn the trade?"

"Come on. He lets Miss Ross play underboss first, and once she's racked up enough wins, the two families join forces. Neat and tidy."

Another one lowered his voice. "And Miss Hart?"

"Her?"

The man scoffed.

"Some nobody out of a border town. What the hell has she got to stand on?"

"If she hadn't taken a bullet meant for the Don, she wouldn't even have a chair to sit her ass in."

I listened in silence, then looked up and met Chloe's taunting gaze.

When everyone came back into the room, my expression hadn't changed. I went on reporting on the things under my charge, same as always.

When the meeting ended and I'd just stepped out, Julian stopped me.

He looked at me, his voice softer than before.

"I know you're upset today."

I didn't answer, and Julian went on.

"But trading that patch of the West Harbor border for the Ross family's trust in us is a very good deal."

I looked up at him. He didn't seem to see the coldness in my eyes, and he kept going.

"As for what you had to swallow over West Harbor, I'll make it up to you."

"Three days from now, go down to the Underground. There's a piece of open territory there. I'll put it under your name."

The Underground?

Suddenly I found it funny.

As funny as these ten years of a love that couldn't see the light of day.

I was quiet for a while before I said, "I'm not going."

Julian's brow creased.

"What did you say?"

"I said I'm not going."

His face darkened.

"Elena, an opportunity this good is sitting right in front of you, and you won't even fight for it?"

I said calmly, "I have something to do that day."

Julian looked like he'd heard something absurd.

"What could possibly matter more than a Sinclair deal?"

I looked at him and said, one word at a time, "Something that decides the rest of my life."

After that day, sure enough, Julian gave me the cold shoulder for a while.

The Underground was never brought up again, and for the next two captains' meetings, no one told me they were happening.

I didn't ask. I just quietly sorted through the things I'd left at the Sinclair estate.

All the jewelry, gowns, holsters, and knives Julian had given me over the years, I put each one back in its original box.

Last of all, from the very back of a drawer, I pulled out a flattened bullet.

It was the one they'd taken out of my chest back then.

It was also the first time Julian had ever truly seen me.

I stared at that bullet for a long time, and to my surprise, my heart felt perfectly calm.

On the evening of the third day, I'd just come out of the bridal shop when Julian called.

His voice was cold.

"Elena Hart."

"Someone said they saw you at a bridal shop."

My steps stopped. He gave a low laugh, his voice full of held-back displeasure.

"So this is the personal matter you meant."

"When did you get so bad at telling what's important and what isn't?"

I said nothing.

Julian seemed to lose his patience entirely.

"The Underground territory. Since you don't want it, don't bother thinking about it ever again."

"As for the wedding dress, try on all you like."

"But Elena, using something like this to corner me only wears my patience thinner."

"So as the price for that, I've already canceled the engagement party we were planning."

"You'd best watch how you behave from now on."

I was quiet for a moment, then said softly, "Understood."

The line went dead.

On the morning of the seventh day, I closed the last suitcase.

On the desk, only two things were left.

A bullet taken out of my chest.

And a wedding invitation.