Chapter 4

Beatrice’s POV

The next day, as we pull up to the De Luca family estate, there is a noticeable chill in the air. Snow blankets parts of the ground, but you can still see some patches of grass peeking through. Before we can even step inside, we get thoroughly searched. The first time I went through this years ago, it felt invasive and gross. Now, it’s just routine.

They manage to uncover every single one of my concealed weapons. I guess I’ll need to get a bit more inventive with my hiding spots.

Their mansion is a stunning, sprawling bungalow nestled in the suburbs. It’s going to take me ages to comb through the entire place for any clues. The file I glanced at had some info, but being here really drives home a different reality.

This estate used to be pretty secluded, but the city has expanded all around it. There’s still a huge stretch of land in the back that looks like an empty field, save for a shed tucked away in the corner.

When the front door swings open, I don’t see Nolan. Instead, there’s a guy who’s a bit shorter than him but built like a tank. His hair is so light it’s almost white, and when his icy blue eyes meet mine, it’s like staring at shards of ice. Flint.

“Sierra.” His voice is flat. “We’ve got an arms dealer. Too bad you made the trip.”

“Nolan didn’t mention we were coming?” She pretends to be surprised but avoids looking him in the eye.

He shifts his gaze, scanning me from head to toe. “Who’s this?”

He doesn’t have an accent like his brother—no Italian lilt or Sicily twang. With the way he talks, you’d think he grew up in Pittsburgh.

“Tris.” She looks my way. “This is Flint.”

“Tris,” Flint replies. “Are you the PA?”

“Sometimes.” I keep it steady. “I handle whatever needs doing.”

He raises his light eyebrows, his expression sharpening. “Whatever needs doing? I like that. Assuming you actually mean it. Most people don’t.”

“For me, she does.” Sierra shifts her purse up on her shoulder. “Nolan’s waiting for us.”

Flint steps back and gestures broadly. “If Nolan’s waiting, I’ll let you find him.” He nods toward a big guy standing off to the side in the foyer. The entrance is spacious with high ceilings, and sunlight streams in from a skylight, brightening the dark decor. “Follow them. Keep your hands to yourself.”

Her tone is firm when she replies, “Always a pleasure, Flint.”

Flint’s laughter echoes down the hall as he walks off.

“He’s such a jerk.” Sierra shoots a glance at the guard, who looks like he could have played football.

“Do you happen to know where Nolan is?” I ask.

“I do,” he replies, his voice deep and resonant.

“Tris,” I say, extending my hand. “And you are?”

“Dalton,” he responds, shaking my hand with his large grip while his brown eyes lock onto mine.

“Can you show us the way? I have a feeling Flint’s trying to keep us in the dark.”

Dalton laughs. “Sure, I’ll take you. It makes my job a lot easier.” He grabs a radio to call someone at the front door and then starts down the spacious, tall hallway.

Flint went left toward a massive doorway that probably leads to a kitchen, so we head right. Did they split the house in two? The layout gives it an older vibe, definitely not like those modern open-concept places.

We pass three or four doors before Dalton halts and presses the intercom button next to a heavy wooden door. The whole house feels dark, luxurious, and a bit stifling.

“Yes?” Nolan’s voice crackles through the speaker.

“Your ten o’clock has arrived.”

The door buzzes open, and Dalton steps inside, while Sierra seems totally unfazed by the security setup. Considering Nolan’s dad was killed during a home invasion, I guess the extra precautions make sense.

As we walk into the room, I can’t help but notice how different it looks. Unlike the rest of the house, which feels a bit cramped, this space is surprisingly spacious, with light-gray walls that give off a warm vibe. There’s another skylight, and the sunlight floods the office, especially after coming from that dark, narrow hallway.

Nolan is seated at a big mahogany desk, but there’s also a workout area off to the side. A small wooden conference table divides the two spaces. He stands up, and his casual jeans and T-shirt are a stark contrast to the formal vibe from last night.

The atmosphere is still there—calm, confident, with a hint of danger lingering around him, but it feels toned down in this room, like being at home softens his edges.

“Sierra.” He says her name smoothly.

Hearing it makes something in my chest tighten. I look up, surprised to meet his gaze.

“Tris.” His accent makes my name sound way more appealing than it ever has.

No matter what his strategy is today, he’s radiating charm. I can’t tell if it’s the accent, his more laid-back outfit, or just being in his own space, but I find myself stepping closer to him without thinking. A flicker of attraction almost ignites before I quickly push it away.

“Going a bit overboard this morning, aren’t we?” Her tone has a playful edge.

He laughs and walks around his desk to adjust the two leather chairs in front of him. “Some women appreciate the accent,” Nolan says with a smirk.

“True, but I know you can drop it when you want to.” Sierra motions for me to take one of the chairs as he returns to his seat.

“You’re right.” He levels his voice, completely dropping the accent as he adds, “You’ve got to cater to your audience.” Then he glances at me. “Dressed like a princess last night and a yoga teacher today?”

I give him a slight grin. “I’m not a fan of being held back. This is pretty much my style.” Yoga pants and a comfy, lightweight top are my usual outfit choices. Sierra loves to tease me about my lack of creativity and always finds a reason to dress me up like a doll. Honestly, I don’t mind most of the time since she gets such a kick out of it.

“And what about last night?”

“Was for a good cause.” I lock eyes with him and hold back a smirk. Getting his attention was worth the hassle of wearing that pink dress.

“You’re looking for a deal?” He turns his focus to Sierra. “I’m not sure I’m interested.”

“Flint told us at the door he has a dealer.”

“We do,” Nolan chimes in with a grimace. He leans back in his chair, fingers steepled. “You realize how serious things are in this house?”