Page 839 of Coal Hearts

He smirked. “I made a promise to Tess that I’d never put myself in undue danger, but...I also made a promise to myself to exterminate those who don’t deserve air so...they’re next.”

Whip-hot violence coiled through me.

I was...jealous.

Jealous of whoever delivered the killing blow to those motherfucking bastards who deserved it.

Scanning the file again, I stopped at a number of names with The Jewelry Box listed beside them. “You haven’t killed them all yet?”

“Franco is working on tracking the final few down. Once we’ve marked them all, then we’ll act. Some fled. Some are in hiding now that they’ve heard what happened to Victor. But they’ll pop back up. They always do.”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he exhaled. “That isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

I fisted the phone, my eyes snapping to his at the change in his voice. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Ilyana Sharma.”

I went deathly still. “What about her?”

“The doctor has advised that it might be prudent to...” He sighed and squeezed the back of his neck. “He advised that certain processes should be followed. Just in case.”

My throat closed. “Certain processes?”

He frowned. “Twenty days is a long time, Henri. It goes without saying, I will continue to do whatever I can to bring her back to you, but...I’m also not such a romantic to believe true love fixes all.”

His phone almost cracked in my hand I fisted so hard. “Would you speak so callously if this was your wife unable to wake?”

“No.” He shrugged. “I’d either be drunk or committing murder.”

“And if she died?”

“I have a child.”

I laughed coldly. “If you expect me to believe that you wouldn’t try to follow her, even with other responsibilities, you’re—”

“I hope for both your sakes that she wakes. I truly do, but—”

“I’m not having this conversation.”

“Shut up and let me finish,” he snapped. “I know how you feel, and I know this is hard but—”

“You don’t know a fucking thing about me!”

“I know you’d probably throw yourself off this roof if it meant you could trade her life for yours.”

“If you know that then it was risky bringing me up here.”

“We needed privacy.”

I crossed my arms, trembling with rage. “I’m going back to her.” Turning on the ball of my foot, I stalked toward the exit. My bare feet ached against the cold stone. My jeans and black hoodie barely kept out the winter’s bite.

“Do they know about you? Do they know what you did? How you were involved?”

I stiffened and turned back to face him. “What are you talking about?”

Stepping toward me, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Ily’s parents. Do they know who you are?”

I glowered at him. “Why?”