"Yeah, Mom." I wipe my eyes. "It's about a man."
"The complicated one?"
"The complicated one."
She sighs. "Do you love him?"
I look toward the bathroom door.
I can still hear the water running.
"Yeah." My voice cracks. "I love him."
"Then figure it out." Her voice is firm. Practical. The same voice she used when I was a kid and scraped my knee. "Whatever's complicated, figure it out. Life's too short for anything else."
I nod even though she can't see me.
"I will."
"And call me tomorrow. Let me know you're okay."
"I will."
"I love you, sweetheart."
"I love you too, Mom."
I hang up.
The phone drops to the bed.
I sit there. Staring at nothing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Dante
The rental car sits in Alejandro's driveway. A black sedan. Nothing memorable. The kind of car that disappears into traffic and leaves no impression on anyone who sees it.
I flew into Denver this morning. Landed at 9:47. Picked up the car at 10:15. Drove for an hour.
The clock on the dashboard shows 11:32.
I sit in the car for a moment, hands on the steering wheel, staring at the house. It's a sprawling estate on the outskirts of Denver. High walls. Security cameras. Armed guards at the gate who waved me through after checking my ID against a list. Alejandro's list. The list of people welcome in his home.
My name is on that list.
He's so sure of my loyalty.
I would be too.
If someone did exactly what I asked, followed every instruction, delivered every result—I would trust them completely. That's how it works in this world. Actions speak. Words mean nothing. And my actions have been perfect.
I step out of the car.
The air is cold. My breath fogs in front of my face as I walk toward the front door. Two guards flank the entrance, both armed, both watching me with the careful attention of men who've been told I'm important but not why.
"Mr. Castellani." One of them nods. "He's expecting you."
