They set a trap.
And I walked right into it.
"Giuseppe," I say. "You said he was working with the Mendoza cartel."
Lorenzo nods.
"Back then. Twenty-four years ago. Before the cartel moved their operations to Mexico. When Alejandro's father was still running things."
"And the man in the warehouse?"
"Alejandro's cousin."
The words hit me like bullets.
One after another.
"His name was Diego Mendoza." Nico's voice is clinical. Detached. "He was twenty-six years old. He had a wife. A daughter. He was being groomed to take over a portion of the family's European operations."
I killed him because Giuseppe told me he murdered my family.
And it was a lie.
"Why?" My voice cracks. "Why would Giuseppe want him dead?"
"We don't know." Lorenzo spreads his hands. "That's the part that doesn't make sense. Giuseppe could have killed Diego himself. He had the resources. The men. The opportunity. But for some reason, he wanted you to do it."
"He wanted me to pull the trigger."
"Yes."
I think about that night.
The warehouse.
The smell of rust and blood and fear.
The man in the chair, begging in a language I didn't understand.
Giuseppe's hand on my shoulder.
"This is justice, Dante. This is closure. This is what you've been waiting for."
I believed him.
I believed every word.
And I emptied a gun into an innocent man's chest.
"Giuseppe's been dead for years," I say. "We can't ask him why."
"No." Lorenzo's voice is heavy. "We can't."
"But Alejandro knows."
Nico nods.
"Alejandro has probably known for eighteen years that you killed his cousin. He's been waiting. Planning. Building his empire in Mexico while he watched you from a distance."
