“Don’t lie to me, Sergio,” I croon, twisting my voice into a low, taunting melody. A dangerous glint sharpens in my eyes as manic heat coils in my chest like a wicked fever I know all too well.
Sergio’s eyes are wide with terror as they jump between my face and the photo. He shakes his head frantically. “No. No, that is not him. I swear on my mother’s soul, I have never met that guy. The man we dealt with... that’s not him.”
Andreas pushes off the doorframe, his knife disappearing into his pocket with a sharp clack. He walks a slow circle around the chairs, scanning their faces.
“They are telling the truth. They are too pathetic to be this good at acting.”
Hot rage burns in my gut. Andreas is right. They’ve never met Nicolo. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t his doing. It means the web is larger than I anticipated, or Nicolo is using a proxy so well hidden that his own soldiers don’t recognize his face.
“Well, I guess you’re useless to me after all,” I say, stepping back, reaching for the cold gun in my holster, and pointing it towards the useless rats who just wasted my time.
“This is for killing Mateo,” I say and shoot once, the bullet hitting Sergio’s head, killing him instantly.
“Wait! Please!” Alfonso screams, his bravado finally snapping as he watches Sergio slump on his chair, lifeless. “I can help you—”
“This is for putting those fucking bruises and wounds on my woman,”I whisper, through his ragged gasps. I grind the muzzle into his forehead, marking him one last time. His eyes widen in pure terror as he realizes his demise is here.
“And you should know, she belongs to me. In this life and the next.”
POP!
The silence that follows is absolute, the smell of gunpowder coating the air as the bullet case hits the floor. Alfonso and Sergio slump forward, their chairs creaking under the dead weight.
I tuck the gun back into my holster and look down at the blood pooling on the grey floor.
Great, now I’m back to square one.
I turn to Lucian and Andreas.
“What a waste of time,” I say, pulling the leather gloves off my hands.
Lucian nods and says, “What now?”
I turn to wash my hands at the sink, and I notice Andreas isn't moving. He’s staring at the small, darkened observation window in the back wall.
“Damiano,” He says, his voice barely above a whisper.
I spin around. “What?”
“Someone was there. I saw a shadow.” Andreas says, pointing to the window.
Shit.
I move, my boots thundering as I bolt for the heavy steel door.
“Katarina!” I roar, my voice echoing throughout the basement level.
Fuck, I didn't want her to see this.
I burst into the security corridor, but the hallway is empty. When I reach the far door leading to the exit, it’s swinging on its hinges, and I see a shadow darting toward the staircase, running blindly.
“Katarina, stop!”
The iron door to theDungeonsslams shut behind me with a heavy clank that vibrates through the soles of my boots. I run toward the exit, my lungs burning, the acrid scent of gunpowder and blood still clinging to my clothes.
This night air is cold, and the moon shines brightly, casting the lemon trees into twisted shadows. I find her near the stone fountain, her small frame doubled over, clutching the moss-covered rim, holding for dear life.
Before I can reach her, the sound of her distress stops me. She’s retching and crying, deep sobs breaking through every attempt to hold herself together. Her whole body is convulsing as if she couldn’t decide whether to cry or scream.
