“I see you haven’t lost your touch.”

A familiar voice echoes from behind me, and when I turn to find my oldest friend, I am stunned by his presence. Angelo Augustine was a classmate back in our Catholic school days. He’s also a Sovereign Son of IVI, hailing from Seattle. We have kept in close contact over the years, but I have not seen him in the flesh for at least six. Letters and phone calls were our only method of contact, given that visiting him in prison was too risky for The Society.

“Should I expect a SWAT team to arrive as witnesses too?” I ask dryly.

He chuckles, but the expression fades to darkness soon after. “I have been released early.”

“How?” I tilt my head to study him. He hasn’t changed much since the last time we met. His features are much like my own. Dark hair. Arctic eyes. He could have passed for my brother and often did when we were younger. Before the explosion.

“Details for another time.” He steps inside the room. “Tonight is about you.”

“You’ll be staying then?” I inquire as I pour him a glass of scotch.

From my periphery, I see Judge nod to indicate he’s going to give us a minute before he disappears down the hall. I wasn’t expecting a visitor, but I’m not about to leave him here without understanding the reason for his return.

Angelo takes the glass and swirls it in his hand, inhaling the scent. It’s a natural inclination amongst the Sovereign Sons. You never know what might be poisoned. But I attribute his actions to memories of times past rather than distrust. If there is anyone in this world Angelo knows he can trust, it is me.

“I wish I could.” He takes a sip and closes his eyes, savoring it. “I can’t be seen by other members yet. The time is not right to reveal my freedom. But I couldn’t let the occasion pass without coming to see you.”

I nod at him. There is an understanding between us that doesn’t need words. Angelo knows betrayal as well as I do, and he is busy making his own plans. As much as it would please me to have him at the altar tonight, I won’t ask that of him if it interferes with his revenge. In some ways, I often think his betrayal was worse than mine. I have Ivy’s father to thank for the destruction in my life, but Angelo’s was his own flesh and blood. He’s spent the last six years of his life caged like an animal for a crime he didn’t commit, and he won’t suffer that slight gently.