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“I… I don’t know…” she finally mumbles, her pretty brown eyes darting back and forth as she realizes that she might have had more freedom when she was a nobody than when she became queen—no matter how short her reign was.
“How did you get the Greek army to rally around you?” I ask, dying to know.
The question snaps Sophia out of her thoughtful introspection.
“I’m a fighter,” she says, sneer returning to her face. “And they like to fight.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I am. However sheltered I may have grown up, I still know my people.”
“Maybe not,” I say. “They haven’t been fighting for you.”
Sophia seems surprised by the revelation. Then her face hardens again and I can tell that she’s decided I’m lying.
“They will.”
“And how do you know that? Retsos doesn’t seem to want to fight, and he’s your second in command, right?”
“Retsos doesn’t mean shit in the larger scheme of things,” Sophia insists. “He wants peace. No one else does. Not unless it means us winning.”
“Why does he want peace. I thought you Greeks were fighters?”
“He’s scared. But soon, he won’t have a choice.”
“Why is he scared?”
“Because he’s a coward.”
Finally, we’re getting somewhere. I want to press Sophia, but before I can ask another question, my cell phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. The frequency isn’t normal—the pattern is one saved for emergencies only. Something is wrong.
Fuck.
I need to answer.
“Finish your soup,” I order. Ripping my phone from my pocket, I turn and head towards the door. “I’ll be right back.”
“Sure you will,” Sophia grumbles after me.
I almost feel guilty as I charge into the hallway and lock the door shut behind me.
“What?” I practically shout into my phone, unable to hide my agitation at being interrupted.
“You need to come down to city hall right fucking now.” It’s Roman. There’s a simmering anger in his voice that immediately puts me on edge.
“Why?”
“There was an attack on one of the buildings. A bomb went off. The government thinks it was a terrorist attack. But one of our connections nearby rushed to the scene and found something troubling. He called us immediately. The Greeks. They left a calling card. It was them… but we’re the only ones who know about it… for now.”
My stomach drops.
So much for what I just told Sophia.
They haven’t been fighting for you.
Looks like they just started.
“What’s the damage?” I ask, a knot tightening in my gut. The sick, twisted bastards are clever, I’ll give them that. If they start attacking innocent civilians and government officials, we won’t just have to deal with the Greeks anymore, but with the fucking FBI too.
