“Arkan?” I asked.
He nodded.
Arkan was the monster in the closet, the bogeyman under our bed. A former government agent from the Russian Imperium, he’d set up shop in Canada and built a cadre of assassins around himself. He plotted, killed, and meddled with political affairs all around the globe but especially in North America. He was so dangerous, the Warden database gave him a black tag, usually reserved for dictators of small countries and heads of worldwide terrorist organizations.
Linus Duncan wanted to kill him because Arkan had stolen a sample of the Osiris serum from the United States. A century and a half ago, the discovery of the serum led to the emergence of hereditary magical talents which shaped our world. The use of the serum was now banned by an international treaty, and protecting it was one of the Wardens’ highest priorities. Alessandro wanted to kill Arkan because Arkan had murdered his father. I wanted to kill him to keep Alessandro safe. We had clashed twice, and both times Arkan lost operatives and allies, but the man himself remained out of our reach and our jurisdiction.
The assassin lay motionless on our kitchen island. Arkan hadn’t sent his best. He sent someone just good enough to sneak up on me, and he didn’t expect this man to survive. He threw a life away just to tap us on the shoulder and say, “Lovely house. I haven’t forgotten about you.”
Alessandro took the vase from my hands and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him. “Catalina, don’t let it worry you.” His voice was intimate and warm. “We’ve got this. This is nothing.”
I leaned my head against his chest. We had to deal with Arkan. Until he was eliminated as a threat, we couldn’t be happy.
He would never let us alone. Last year, right after we destroyed that construct in the Pit, Arkan, who had been connected to the whole thing, sent his pet telekinetic, Xavier Secada, to warn us to back off. We told him where he could shove his offer.
Xavier hated House Baylor and particularly me with the fire of ten thousand suns. He was once a member of Connor’s extended family on Connor’s mother’s side, but after I exposed the fact that he was actively trying to sabotage Connor and Nevada’s wedding, he was kicked out. I had expected Xavier to retaliate after the Pit. He didn’t. Instead, he went to Spain and attacked his former family. He didn’t target the adults. No, Xavier had gone after Mia Rosa, a ten-year-old child, because she was a future Prime and the pride of her family.
If she had been a little less trained or if his power had been a little more stable, he would’ve killed her. She survived but spent months in the hospital. To say that Connor wanted to get his hands on Xavier’s neck would be an understatement. And Arkan, who had sanctioned the entire thing, sent Mia Rosa flowers at the hospital with a card that said, “See you soon.”
This was the type of opponent we were dealing with. That’s who stood between us and our happiness.
“This won’t happen once we move in,” Alessandro said.
“I know.” Our private guards were top-notch, and our security chief was exceptional.
I wouldn’t let Arkan taint this house for us. No, this would be our home, and I would make it safe and warm.
“Would you like some wine?” he asked.
“No.”
Alessandro’s expression darkened. “This didn’t quite go the way I wanted it to.”
“What do you mean?”
Alessandro looked at the dead killer. “But then, maybe this is better. More honest.”
He took a step back. A small box appeared in Alessandro’s fingers as if by magic.
Wine, flowers, new house, jewelry box. My brain connected the puzzle pieces in a lightning-bright flash, and I caught his arm just as he started to kneel, keeping him standing. “No kneeling. Please.”
He opened the box. A gold ring rested on black velvet, crowned with an oval ruby.
“This is not an heirloom,” Alessandro said with grim sincerity. “I didn’t take it from my family. I designed it for you and had it made. Nobody else has ever worn it and if you say no, nobody ever will.”
The faceted stone glittered like a star caught in a drop of blood between us.
“I love you with all of my heart,” he said. “I can’t promise you a calm life, but I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make you happy. Will you marry me?”
He fell silent, and I saw uncertainty flicker in his eyes. Despite everything we’d been through, he didn’t know what my answer would be. This was the part of the road where our two paths either converged or parted. One word, one tiny little word, and our lives would be irreversibly changed. The moment was so deeply intimate that it almost hurt.