Page 132 of Shadow

But no, he was a little tired of apologizing, thank you. He looked at Destiny. “I wasn’t working with Draven,” Asher said carefully. “I was infiltrating his organization. Gathering evidence. Building a RICO case.”

Destiny stepped into the room. “By lying to everyone around you.”

“Yes.”

Destiny moved closer. Slowly. Her footsteps soft on the hardwood. She reached the coffee table. Looked down at the weapons spread there.

Then picked up Asher’s Glock.

“Destiny,” Daphne said. “Put the weapon down.”

Then she picked up the .380.

What—

“Destiny—” Asher started, but she stepped back from them. Five feet.

And his brain was mathing, fast⁠—

Then she pointed both guns at him.

Too far for him to lunge without her pulling the trigger. Either trigger.

Roger appeared at the top of the stairs. “Good work, Mom.”

Asher froze. No—what?

Destiny smiled. “Of course it was.”

Asher stared. Wait⁠—

“You’re making a mistake,” he said. Voice careful. Controlled. “Both of you. You need our protection. Draven will find you. He has resources. Contacts. He’ll hunt you down no matter where you go.”

“Of course he will,” Destiny said. She handed the other gun to Roger, who turned it on Asher. “Draven works for me.”

Silence.

Asher’s mind went blank. Then raced. Eighteen months of evidence. Eighteen months of tracking Draven. Eighteen months of building a case against⁠—

Against the wrong person.

“You,” he said, voice low. “You’re⁠—”

“The head of the Shadow Syndicate,” Destiny finished. Still smiling. Still pleasant. “Yes. I built it. I ran it. I made the decisions. Ralph worked for me.”

“Ralph was the face,” Roger said. “The name everyone knew. The person law enforcement tracked. But Mom—Mom was always the real power.”

“You said Draven was your brother. Ralph’s son. I thought⁠—”

“You thought we were at war,” Roger said. “You thought Draven was trying to kill us. Take over the operation.” He shook his head. “That was the story we needed you to believe. Needed everyone to believe. Draven plays the villain. The dangerous one. The person law enforcement chases. Meanwhile, Mom stays clean.”

Destiny didn’t take her eyes off Daphne. “You should sit down, Agent Morrison,” she said.

Asher didn’t move. Just stood there processing. Recalculating. Eighteen months of lies and deception and playing both sides—and he’d been played harder than anyone.

“Turn around, get on your knees, Agent,” Destiny said, her gaze still on Daphne. “Hands behind your back. Roger, tie him up.”

Asher still didn’t move.