She remained still, her teeth worrying at the soft skin inside her mouth.
“You think this is personal?” I said, my tone low and lethal. “It’s not. You were a transaction to them. A sale. A productIstole.”
I leaned in, close enough to see the rise and fall of her chest. Close enough to see her lips part just slightly, but not in fear.
“You’re lucky to be sitting here at all.”
She stared, then finally said flatly, “I’m more than happy to leave. You’re the one holding me hostage. You’re the one who ruined my career. My dreams. My entire fucking life.”
I let the silence hang between us. Then I looked her dead in the eye and said—
“You were never going to have a life in this city.”
A text lit up my screen before I could say more. It was Luca telling me to turn on the news.
I tapped the control app on my phone, and the flatscreen on the far wall lit up.
The news blinked to life.
“…an early-morning fire tore through the private Manhattan Midtown club known as The Sacrifice,”the anchor said, her voice pitched just right to sound urgent but not hysterical.“Investigators are looking into potential mafia activity, citing multiple witnesses who claimed the place was stormed by armed men shortly after midnight. The fire, which began on the main level, quickly engulfed the building. Several bodies have been recovered. Others remain unaccounted for.”
They rolled the footage as she spoke. Fire crews had mostly doused the flames, but the building still smoldered. What remained of the structure was scorched and hollow, with smoke curling from pockets of ash and debris.
Lyla’s breath caught.
Then came the real show—the mayor stepping up to the mic, sleeves rolled up, voice tight with righteous fury.
“The people of this city have suffered too long under the thumb of organized crime. I’ve made it my mission to sever those roots. And I will not stop until the last shadow of the mafia is run out of the five boroughs. This administration will work hand in hand with federal task forces and city prosecutors to dismantle every syndicate and arrest every family member still operating within our borders.”
A beat passed. The screen cut back to the anchor. I turned it off.
“Jesus,” Lyla whispered. “They’re making Delgado sound like the victim.”
“Delgado’s had his hands in New York City politics for the last year,” I said flatly. “This is just spin.”
She regarded me forlornly. “So…what now?”
“Now I get you out of the city. New identity. New location. Quiet, safe, away from all this.”
After a flurry of blinks, she cocked her head and said, “Excuse me? You’re not law enforcement. You don’t get to put me in witness protection.”
I gave a humorless laugh. “Sweetheart, this isn’t a democracy. You’re going.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why? So you can hide me in some basement like a little doll you don’t know what to do with?”
“Because it’s the only way for you to stay alive.”
She scoffed and leaped up out of her chair. “That’s bullshit. You don’t get to make that decision.”
“I already have.”
“And what if I say no?”
I met her eyes. “Then you die. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
She gasped.
I shouldn’t have said it. But she needed to get it.
