More deliberate. More intrusive.
Renzo didn’t move.
“Boss, Elena wouldn’t steal your mother’s ring,” Renzo said, his tone firm but controlled. “Let’s not humiliate her over this.”
Ciro’s gaze hardened.
“Renzo.”
A sharp warning.
“Use the metal detector on her—now.”
Renzo’s shoulders tensed.
“No. I refuse to embarrass the boss’s pregnant wife over your bullshit claim,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly.
The air snapped tighter.
Violet’s voice slipped into the moment like a blade wrapped in silk.
Soft. Trembling.
Perfectly timed.
“Unless, of course, you’re helping her hide the ring, Renzo,” she said, her tone carefully innocent, “I fail to see why you can’t just run the detector over her.”
Her eyes flicked toward me.
Calculating.
“It’s a simple check.”
Renzo’s grip on the wand tightened, his knuckles whitening.
He looked at Vincenzo.
Waiting.
The only person in this circle whose word actually mattered.
Vincenzo exhaled sharply through his nose.
Frustration. Control.
Barely contained.
“Renzo,” Vincenzo said, voice low and final, “do it.”
The order hit like a hammer.
Renzo stared at the ground for a long moment.
Jaw working.
Conflict written plainly across his face.
Then—
