“Who?” My voice is all teeth.
“Micky didn’t recognise him. Scrawny, dark hair, covered in ink, walks with a limp.”
“Carlo.” The name tastes wrong in my mouth, bitter. Salvatore’s IT guy. Micky’s worked the docks long enough that it makes sense he wouldn’t know him and Carlo has no reason to be near shipments, no business anywhere close to the cargo runs. But despite not meeting him yet, I’ve seen photos, and he fits the description too perfectly. And that unsettles me more than I want to admit. If he’s there, it means lines are blurring I can’t afford to ignore.
“Yeah,” Aidan grunts. “That’s who I thought too.”
I push to my feet, pacing hard, every step ricocheting off the walls tighter around me. “He doesn’t work cargo, he’s Salvatore’s IT. Why the fuck would he be near the docks?”
“Because he’s the one they trust to keep it clean,” Liam suggests. “Or because Salvatore’s not the only one he’s answering to anymore.”
The silence after that is heavier than any answer. We’ve all thought it, but none of us wants to speak it. Because admitting it means the rot spreads deeper than we feared. If Salvatore’s behind the ring, at least it’s the devil we know. But if there’s someone else, well, that’s a whole new shitshow to unravel.
“That would fuck every theory we have,” I force out past the rock sitting on my chest.
“Only if we let it,” Aidan sighs, sounding as exhausted by this shit as I feel. “We just need to dig deeper until we work out if Carlo was there on Salvatore’s orders or someone else’s.”
“Fine,” I snap, though my pulse doesn’t agree. “How’s Cora? Owen?”
Liam lets out a dry huff. “Owen’s good. Busy being a stay-at-home dad half the time, pretending he isn’t soft as shit about it.”
A pause, then—
“And Cora says to tell you she expects an invite to the wedding. Claims even a farce deserves champagne.”
A bitter sound escapes me, half laugh, half broken breath, and I have to bite my tongue against telling them that that shitshow is officially cancelled.
“Tell her it’s coming. Right after my funeral notice.”
“Keep talking like that and Ciaran’s going to call you himself,” Liam warns.
“Let him. I’ve got bigger problems.”
“Like Lily?”
My jaw locks. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Silence hangs for a beat before Aidan cuts in, teasing. “You know, you should come to Lyon with us this weekend. Cora andAbbie are visiting Lily, and there’s still time to get your ass down there before we land this afternoon.”
My chest tightens and my pulse spikes. “I… I can’t,” I mutter, trying to sound calm.
Liam laughs, sharp, and amused. “Can’t or won’t, Matt? Jonathan and your dad might be blind to it, but we all know you’d crawl across a mile of broken glass to see her if you really wanted to.”
I grit my teeth. “Keep your jokes. I’ve got bigger fires to put out.”
Aidan chuckles low. “Sure, sure. But just so you know… they’ll be laughing, sipping something pink, probably plotting ways to get back at you. Those girls love each other, something fierce, and something tells me they’re all out for your blood.”
“I said—” I pause, swallowing.
“That you’re too busy to hash it out with the girl you’re still hung up on?” Liam cuts in, voice dry as smoke. “Yeah, Matt. We heard every word.”
The line crackles with a weighted silence until Aidan adds, “We’ll get some guys to keep an eye on the ports while we’re gone. If anything moves, we’ll hear about it. But Matt… stay sharp. If Salvatore’s IT is tied in, this is bigger than any of us thought.”
Click. The line goes dead, and silence stretches over me like a wet blanket, and the image they painted keeps flickering in my mind. Lily laughing with Cora and Abbie, hair pulled back just so, lips curved into that soft, unguarded smile that has no idea I’m watching, no idea how much I’ve missed her, no idea what I’ve become in the year she’s been away.
This girls’ weekend isn’t just a trip. It’s a lifeline, a chance. A small, dangerous beacon slicing through the chaos of Salvatore’sworld. Going is reckless—probably the most idiotic thing I could do—but the thought of passing up the chance to see her, to finally talk to her, is unbearable.
