I’ve never wanted to get married. Never saw the point. I keep things simple—women I won’t see again, no attachments, no one who can be used against me. The life I live is too violent for anything else.
And now Lorenzo wants me to tie myself to a woman I barely know. A woman with big brown eyes and bruises on her arm and a smile I can’t stop thinking about.
“I’ll find another way,” I hear myself say. “I’ve been tracking him for months. I’ll pick up his trail again.”
“You’ve had months and you’ve failed.” Lorenzo’s tone is flat. Dismissive. “Yesterday was the first time you got close, and he slipped through your fingers.”
My jaw goes tight. He’s not wrong, and that makes it worse.
“This isn’t a request, Matteo.”
Silence blankets the room. I’ve never refused an order. Not once. Even when the job made my skin crawl, I did what was asked because that’s who I am. Loyal. Obedient. A weapon to be pointed in whatever direction serves the family.
But this feels different.
This feels like being asked to crack open a door I’ve spent my entire life keeping locked.
“She’s a civilian,” I say, one last attempt. “She didn’t ask to be part of this.”
“No one asks.” Lorenzo’s eyes bore into mine. “But Viktor already made her part of it when he put his hands on her. You said yourself she’s scared of him. That he’s been harassing hersince they split. Maybe she’d welcome the protection that comes with your name.”
What a fucking joke. My name is synonymous with blood and broken bones. The only protection I can offer is the kind that comes from being more dangerous than the monsters circling.
“Think of it as an arrangement,” Santino says smoothly. “Temporary. Once Viktor is handled, you can annul it.”
My gaze drifts to the wall. There’s a painting there, some abstract bullshit that probably cost more than my car. I stare at it without seeing.
Sierra Dixon.
I think about her standing behind that bar, all warmth and easy laughter despite the fear I could see lurking in her eyes. I think about the way she flinched when I asked about her bruises. The way she tried so hard to seem like everything was fine.
She’s tougher than she looks. I saw that much last night. But tough isn’t the same as prepared. And she has no idea what she’s already tangled up in.
“Fine.” The word scrapes out of my throat like gravel. “I’ll do it.”
Lorenzo nods, satisfied. “Good. Get close to her. Convince her to cooperate. Make it believable enough to enrage Viktor, and he’ll come running.”
I push back from the table and head for the door. My legs feel strange underneath me, disconnected from my body.
“Matteo.”
I stop but don’t turn around.
“Don’t let personal feelings complicate this.” Lorenzo’s voice follows me toward the door. “She’s a means to an end. Nothing more.”
Right.
I walk out of the restaurant without looking back. The casino floor spreads out in front of me, all flashing lights and ringing machines and people who have no idea how close they are to the kind of darkness that runs this city.
Marry her.
The command echoes in my skull.
I think about Viktor. The bullets he put in me. The bruises on Sierra’s arm.
Maybe Lorenzo’s right. Maybe this is the smartest play. Dangle what Viktor wants most in front of him and wait for him to make a mistake.
But as I step out into the blinding desert sun, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m the one walking into a trap.
