Blood pools beneath him, but it’s thick and more brown than red, telling me he's been for awhile.
My first thought is thank fuck I went to the Winter Festival.
This guy was definitely killed while I was there, which means I have an alibi.
I approach his body, gun still raised. I check his pulse, knowing it's pointless.
His skin is cold. The kill shot is precise.
Center mass, professional.
This wasn't some random violence or robbery gone wrong. This was an assassination.
"Fuck," I mutter, standing quickly and scanning the warehouse.
My men wouldn't have done this, not without my order, which I never gave.
If Michael threatened one of my men, they’d be well within their right to defend himself, but he would have called me to let me know.
We have protocols. We're careful. And we don't kill federal agents unless absolutely necessary.
This feels orchestrated. The silent alarm. The clean perimeter. The fresh body.
I'm being set up.
I check my watch. Michael's been dead two hours, a little less, a little more. Whoever did this could still be nearby, waiting for me to find him.
I have to consider an ambush.
This isn’t unlike what happened to Marco and Roman a few years ago.
I holster my gun and pull out my phone, getting ready to call Angelo and maybe Roman. I'd call the police except I know I'm going to be blamed for this and I rather not.
"Sorry Michael. I've got to make you disappear."
The warehouse door bangs open behind me. I spin, reaching for my gun on instinct before freezing mid-motion.
Olivia stands silhouetted in the doorway, her face shifting from shock to horror as her eyes lock on Michael's body, then on me standing over him.
"Don't move!" She draws her weapon in one fluid motion, training it on my chest. Her hands are steady, her stance perfect. "Put your gun down and step away from him, Dom. Now."
The accusation in her eyes cuts deeper than any blade. After everything, she still sees me as nothing but a killer.
"Olivia, listen to me. I didn't do this." I set my gun on the ground and take a step away with my hands up. I'm putting my life in her hands. Does she see that?
“Turn around.” She pulls out a pair of handcuffs.
I do as she says, letting her handcuff me even though I could over take her.
But doing so would only prove to her that all I am is bad.
Still. I can make my case. "I just found him like this. The alarm went off, and I came to check?—"
"Save it." Her voice cracks slightly. "I heard you telling him you had to make him disappear."
Fucking hell. "He's been dead for hours. I just found him and knowing I'd be accused of killing him, I was apologizing to him?—"
"You're supposed to call the police."
