“I can come back at a time that’s more convenient for him.” I kept my tone crisp and my statement pointed.

“He needs you gone now.”

“Gone?” I choked on the word.

Vincent looked at me like I was a child, and a developmentally delayed one at that.

“Yes. Gone.” He strode to the desk and grabbed a thick manila envelope off the leather blotter before holding it out to me.

It seemed like a dare, as if he knew I didn’t want to get any closer to him than I had to, but he was going to force the issue.

Digging deep into my stores of poise to appear unaffected, I crossed the room and reached out to take it. Vincent jerked it out of my reach, toying with me.

Now that I was close, he lowered his voice so that not even Angelo could hear. “You’re going to take this envelope and you’re going to disappear. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, especially any of your little friends.”

If there had been any room for awkward humor in this situation, I would have laughed at that. Friends weren’t exactly part of Dom’s policy of enforced isolation.

“There’s a number in here to a line you call only in an emergency. If you’re not bleeding to death or being held at gunpoint, think twice before using it. Only use the ID, credit cards, and cell phone in here. Don’t even fucking take yours with you. Leave it all at home. Do you understand me?”

I dipped my chin a fraction of an inch, indicating that I understood what he was saying, even though I didn’t. “I’m just supposed to leave?”

“Lay low. Don’t attract attention. And for fuck’s sake, don’t tell a goddamned person who you are.”

“How long?” The question came out a whisper.

“Until you get a text from the number in here telling you to come back.”

The orders he issued repeated in my head over and over until they began to sink in. Disappear. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going.

He finally held out the envelope again, and I reached to snatch it from him, praying that my hand didn’t shake. But Vincent didn’t let go as I tugged.

“Don’t fuck this up, Eden. You’ve been a liability to Dom since the day you were born, so for once in your life, do something to make yourself less of a fucking burden. Don’t call Dom. Don’t bother him. Just get the hell out of here.”

With that verbal slap to the face, I yanked the envelope from his grip and turned away from the distaste stamping his features.

The words sliced at my insides as they played on a loop in my head. Make yourself less of a fucking burden. I wanted to scream as Angelo followed me out the door and down the stairs.

I never asked to be a burden. Why can’t they understand that?

We walked in silence until I slid into the backseat of the SUV.

“I’m supposed to take you home to pack and then to the airport.” Angelo glanced at me in the rearview mirror, and his tone carried an apology.

I nodded, but my brain was already moving forward.

Where will I go? What will I do?

As much as I’d chafed against the restrictions I lived under, I never realized that they also acted as a security blanket until the moment they were ripped away.

It was one thing to paper the bulletin board in my office with pictures of places I wanted to see with thoughts of someday I’ll go, but all of a sudden, someday was now.

The freedom to go anywhere, all by myself, should have been heady and intoxicating, but instead unexpected anxiety invaded my every breath.

Angelo had spent more time with me than any of Dom’s other soldiers, and he recognized the change in my mood.

“It’s going to be okay, E. Just pick somewhere, check into the nicest hotel in town, order room service, get a massage, do girly spa shit, and pretend you’re on vacation. You wanted a break from all this, so now you got it.”

I inhaled a deep breath and let it out. I can do this. I’ll be fine. This is what I’ve wanted for years. Regardless of how uneasy it made me that it was being shoved upon me, I vowed to embrace the opportunity. The proverbial door to my gilded cage had been flung open, and it was time for me to explore.

But one piece of this whole thing continued to elude me. “Why is he doing this? What happened?”

Angelo’s gaze dropped away from the rearview mirror and fixed on the road. “I thought Dom would be there and he’d tell you what’s what.”

“Apparently he couldn’t be bothered.”

“I’m sure it’s not like that.” Angelo’s words came out stiff because we both knew it was like that, at least for the last decade, with no signs of changing anytime soon.

“Just tell me.”

He stopped at a light and turned around to look at me. “You can’t tell anyone I told you any of this.”

I lifted the manila envelope. “And who am I going to tell while I’m in exile? Hell, who would I tell here?”

“Cash houses got hit this morning, and so did some of the businesses.”

Unease bloomed in my belly. “Which businesses?”

As much as I wasn’t supposed to know that the spa where I kept the books—clean, legit books—was a front, I wasn’t dumb enough to ignore the comings and goings of Dom’s people, and the briefcases and duffels they carried.

“The spa. It . . . it was bad. That’s why you gotta go. They don’t know if it got hit because you work there or if it was just part of the overall plan. Either way, I’d get you out of town too.”

The dozens of questions I wanted to ask were wiped away in the wake of the most important one. “Was anyone hurt?”

Angelo glanced up at the rearview mirror, his face apologetic for a beat before taking on a hard cast. “They threw a Molotov cocktail through the front window before they shot up the place from a car out front. Four of the girls went to the doc to be treated, but no one died.”

Oh, thank God there were no casualties. But still, the thought of any of the girls being injured twisted my gut in knots.

“Do you know who? What kind of injuries?”

His eyes back on the road, he shook his head. “Didn’t get any details.”

“Then why am I going to some undisclosed location and not a safe house somewhere?”

Angelo’s shoulders tensed. “No fucking clue. Not like Dom and Vin explain themselves to me. But if I had to guess, I’d say they’re worried the organization has been compromised. If no one knows where you are, no one can tell.”