“You think he’s the one pulling the strings?”His smile widened, teeth glinting in the light.“You’re not even close.”
Marco’s gaze snapped to mine.I raised a hand — just enough to stop him from breaking the man’s jaw.“Who?”I asked.
The lieutenant leaned forward, rope creaking under his weight.“Someone close.Someone who wants you and Moretti both gone.”
I didn’t move.Didn’t blink.The storm outside cracked hard against the metal roof.“I want a fucking name.”
He shook his head, grinning through the blood.“You’ll know soon enough.”
A long beat.Then I turned to Marco.“Get it out of him.”
Marco grabbed the man by the hair, jerking his head back.“You want to die fast or slow?”
The lieutenant met my eyes.“You can’t protect her.”
My hand lifted the gun.One shot.Precise.Clean.Now was not the time for anyone to think I was weak.Someone was coming for my business and her.
Marco released the body, exhaling through his nose.“He was bluffing.”
“Maybe.”
I turned toward the open doors, rain slashing through the night.Someone had moved the board while I was busy guarding the queen.
“Clean this up.And find out who’s playing us.”
Marco nodded, already issuing orders.I didn’t wait to see the rest.I stepped out into the rain, the weight of the night settling over my shoulders like a curse.For the first time in years, I wasn’t sure who the enemy was.Only that if they touched her, none of us would survive what came next.
By the time I made it back to the house, the rain turned to mist.I poured a drink and for a moment, I thought of her — her eyes that night at the wedding, the way she’d stared at me as if she could already see the ruin I’d become.Below, smoke still drifted from the south district, faint ribbons curling up from the places I’d ordered erased.Marco and my men would still work through the night, making sure no one spoke Russo’s name again.
But even from here, I could feel it — the city wasn’t quiet.It was waiting.
I stepped onto the balcony and thought of the lieutenant’s last words —You can’t protect her.He hadn’t saiddon’t.He’d saidcan’t.As if the universe itself had already decided the outcome.
I set the glass on the railing and leaned both hands against the steel.Control.That was always the illusion.You could plan every move, measure every risk, buy every loyalty—and it still came down to who you will bleed for.
And I already knew my answer.If she wanted fire, I’d give her the world in flames.
11
MIA
I approached Café Bellissimo.Catrina was already there, perched like a queen in a crimson dress.Sunlight caught the warm threads of her hair; her smile broke like dawn.
“Darling!You look ravishing.”
“You’re one to talk.”I hugged her — the familiar curve of her shoulder, the comfort of someone who let me breathe.We slid into our seats.Menus were unnecessary.Caprese and mimosas for both.
“Spill it, Trina.I can see the glint from a mile away.”
She flushed — rare for her.Fingers toyed with the stem of her glass.“His name is Lorenzo.He’s… different.Exciting.Intense.”
“Intense?”I arched my brow.That thrill was familiar.Enrico lived in that word.
“Very.”A fire sparked in her eyes — warning and invitation, rolled into one.“He’s got connections, Mia.The kind that makes you question how far you’ll walk on the wild side.”
Everything she said described him.Enrico.Sexy as sin, dangerous as a blade, and for reasons I still couldn’t name, he’d latched on to me.The day he first told me I’d be his wife, my skin had known terror and something revoltingly delicious at once.And ever since that day, he invaded my dreams.
“Let’s just say he’s not the sort you bring home for Sunday dinner,” Catrina whispered, leaning closer.Curiosity clawed at the walls I’d built.Her brand-new danger looked too much like mine.
