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“That’s not an answer,” Ash bit out. “Nic, you offered me your club.”

“It’s our club,” Nicco pointed out. “You helped me build it.”

“With your vision in mind,” Ash shot back. “And with you as its leader. I just… I can’t help but think that maybe you’re not just walking away from The Princes.”

Hanna bit her lip. The silence that followed was heavy and loaded, as if they were all dancing around a damning truth. This wasn’t the same as crossing a line into bed together, but something so much more, a fork in the road, a critical point.

“That’s my business,” Nic said. “No reason for you to worry.”

Ash lost his cool. “You’re kidding, right, Niccolo? You think we don’t have any reason to worry when we’re the people who care about you? I’ve been at your side for a goddamned decade, and you don’t think I have the right to worry…”

Hanna reached for Nicco’s hand, which was gripping the counter. “I can’t compete with that but… I’ve lost too many people, Nic. Too many people I…care about.”

It was the closest she could get without admitting that she was in over her head, and the furthest she could go without pushing Nicco to his breaking point.

“Everyone I care for gets hurt,” Nic bit back. “You would both be much better off with Ash in charge.”

Hanna went to respond, to tell him that none of them were unfamiliar with heartbreak or grief, that it was an excuse, so he didn’t have to feel anything anymore, not even the good. But before she could find the words, her phone trilled through the room, shattering the moment.

“You should get that,” Nicco replied. “Could be important to the case.”

Hanna pushed away from the counter, fueled by rage and grief and worry.

“Hey, boss,” Wyatt’s voice came over the phone. “I know you’re dealing with everything from your house…situation. But something just arrived for you at the station.”

Hanna furrowed her brow. “What is it?”

Wyatt hesitated. “It’s…a box.”

Hanna shook her head, as if Wyatt could see her on the phone. It seemed a strange thing for him to be calling over. “What aren’t you telling me, Wyatt?”

She could hear him sucking his teeth over the line. “The box is dripping blood.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hanna stood in the doctor’s office. The room was cold, as was to be expected, but that wasn’t why she had a chill she couldn’t shake.

Ash stood closer than was proper, and Nicco was steady at her back, and Hanna hated how much she needed them there, how much strength and power they gave her.

“Go ahead, Doc,” Ash said.

Doc Royal lifted the flaps of the box, and all of them peered inside.

Hanna swore low, the harsh language fighting the tidal wave of panic and fear like David standing to Goliath. “That’s Grace’s finger.”

Royal gently pulled it from the box, placing it below the bright light on the table.

The finger had been severed at the root, and the skin was stained dark red, but there was no ignoring the familiar patterns of blue flowers on Grace’s nail.

Or the enormous wedding ring.

“They know you’re coming after them,” Nicco said. “The house, now this. You have to be careful, Hanna.”

Hanna swallowed hard. “Was she…was…”

Royal seemed to figure out what she was trying to ask, and took mercy on her. “Antemortem,” he said quickly. “There are obvious signs of blood flow from the finger. I can’t tell you about her current state, but she was alive when the digit was removed.”

Hanna’s knees buckled, and it was only Ash and Nicco both reaching for her, holding her up against the tide that kept her from crumbling to the floor in relief. Partial relief. Temporary relief. If Grace was still alive, what other horrors were they inflicting on her, just to learn about the leverage she had hidden? And even without…