I watch her go until she’s a shadow, then nothing. My chest feels like it’s been hollowed out with a goddamn ice cream scoop.
What the fuck am I doing?
I need to know what happened to her.
I think about Elena. I think about the car, the fire, and the way her name still feels like a bruise in the center of my soul. Gettingattached to Gia isn't just a mistake; it’s a fucking death sentence. For both of us.
I head to the utility sink and scrub my hands until the skin is raw and the water runs clear. I don't look in the mirror. I don't want to see the man who’s starting to like the way a liar tastes.
"Tell Matteo and the boys I’m coming to the club," I tell Dmitri as I pass him in the hall. "We’re playing cards. And find me a goddamn clean shirt."
The Brotherhood’s private lounge smells like expensive tobacco, aged bourbon, and the kind of peace that only exists when you have enough guns at the door.
Matteo, Dante, and Enzo are already at the table. The green felt is covered in chips, and the air is thick with the kind of bullshit only men who’ve killed together can manage. I pull out a chair and sit, the movement making the cut on my ribs twinge.
"Ah, there he is," Dante says, tossing a chip into the pot. "The Butcher of the East Wing. You look like shit, Rafe."
"Found the leak," I say, ignoring the jab. "Fredo. He was selling routes to pay for his sister’s surgery. Fucking idiot."
Matteo studies his cards, his expression unreadable. "Was he the only one?"
"He mentioned a 'Ghost'. I’ll have Enzo dig into his comms again tomorrow." I signal the waiter for a scotch.
"You seem... distracted," Enzo says, leaning back in his chair, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Usually, after an interrogation, you’re either ready to sleep, kill someone else... or fuck Tonight, you’re just staring at the wall."
"I’m tired, Enzo. It’s been a long fucking day."
"Or maybe you’re just angry we cockblocked you?” Dante teases, winking at the others. "Dmitri said Gia wandered into the basement. And it didn’t look like she was fainting with fear at all, it looked like y’all were ready to get down and dirty.”
“I’m going to kill Dmitri.” I snap and Enzo chuckles.
“I’m shocked she didn’t run away screaming bloody murder, I’ve seen you in the dungeons Rafael and you’re a goddamn scare.”
I tighten my grip on my glass. "She’s a De Luca. She’s seen blood before."
"She’s softening you, Rafael," Matteo says quietly, finally looking up. "I see the way you look at the door when she isn't in the room. You’re starting to care, aren’t you?”
"I’m notsoftening," I snap, the scotch burning my throat as I swallow. "She’s an asset. A political necessity I agreed to take because of you, Matteo. I’m managing her."
"Manage her right into your bed, huh?" Enzo chuckles.
I look down at my cuff, then back at them. I want to tell them to go to hell. I want to tell them that I’m in control. But the image of Gia’s red-stained dress keeps flashing in my mind, a goddamn siren light in the dark.
I’m not in control. At all.
"I don't want to get attached," I say, my voice dropping to a register that kills the laughter at the table.
The room goes still. Matteo sets his cards down. Dante stops fiddling with his chips.
"I did that once," I continue, staring into the amber liquid in my glass. "I gave Elena everything. I let her be the thing that made me human. And look where that got me. I can’t go through that again."
"Gia isn't Elena," Matteo says gently.
"I know she isn't. But that thought isn’t helping much." I finish the scotch and slam the glass onto the table. "I’m keeping my distance. For her sake as much as mine."
"Good luck with that," Enzo mutters, dealing the next hand. "Because the way you’re playing your cards, Rafael, I’d say you’re already all in."
I pick up my hand. Three kings. A strong opening.
