"Easy."
I ignored him. "What kind of updates?"
The prisoner swallowed. "Schedules."
My fingers curled.
"Movement." Worse. "What she looks like."
Much worse. The space felt very small. Very hot. Very temporary. The prisoner's eyes widened. He saw it. The moment. The exact moment murder became inevitable. "Please don’t hurt me."
I stood. Slowly. The chair beneath him rattled. His panic intensified. Good instincts. Too late. I removed mypistol. Checked the chamber. The metallic click echoed softly through the room. The man started crying. Actually crying. Embarrassing. Marco rubbed his forehead.
The soldiers remained perfectly still. Nobody interrupted. Nobody argued. Because everybody already knew. The decision had been made.
I stopped directly in front of the prisoner. Looked down at him. He looked very small from here. Very insignificant. A man who had willingly stepped into somebody else's war. And now discovered wars had consequences.
"Tell Edoardo something for me."
Hope flashed across his face. Poor bastard. He thought he was leaving. I almost felt bad. Almost. His eyes lifted. Desperate. Waiting. I lowered the gun. Placed it against his forehead. The room went silent. Completely silent.Then I smiled beneath the mask.
"The next man he sends near Aurora loses more than photographs."
The prisoner's face crumpled. Understanding. Finally. The gunshot echoed through concrete. The body dropped. Blood spread across the floor. Silence followed. I stared down at him. Nothing. No satisfaction. No excitement. Just business. Necessary. Finished.
Then I heard a small sound.
A gasp. Tiny. Soft. Human.
Every muscle in my body locked. I knew that sound. Impossible. My head snapped upward. Toward the glass door overlooking the holding room. Toward the shadows. Toward… Aurora.
My heart stopped. She stood frozen behind the glass. Barefoot. Pale. Horrified. Her dark eyes stared down at the body. Then at me. Then at the gun. Then at the mask.
Fear flooded her expression. Real fear. Not annoyance. Not irritation. The sight hit harder than any bullet ever could. For one terrible second neither of us moved. The room disappeared. The soldiers disappeared. The body disappeared. Only Aurora remained.
And she looked at me like she finally understood exactly what I was.
A monster. The Devil. A killer. Not the man from the rooftop. Not the man who talked about Angelo. Not the man who laughed.
Her lips parted. Then she stepped backward.
No. My stomach dropped. "Aurora."
The word left me. She flinched. Jesus Christ. She actually flinched. Then she turned. And ran. The sound of her footsteps echoed down the hallway. Fast. Panicked. Gone.
I stood motionless. The gun still hanging at my side. The mask still covering my face. The corpse cooling on the floor. And all I could think was one horrifying thing. The only person whose opinion had started to matter... Had just watched me become exactly what I was.
For three seconds after she disappeared, I didn't move. The room remained silent. The body lay cooling on the concrete floor. Blood spread slowly beneath it. Nobody spoke. Nobody breathed. Nobody was stupid enough. Because everybody in the room had seen it.
The moment. The exact moment.
Aurora had looked at me. And recoiled.
Something cold settled beneath my ribs. Not guilt. I didn't regret killing him. The bastard had been spying on her. Following her.Photographingher. I'd shoot him again.
That wasn't the problem. The problem was the look on her face. Fear. Real fear. The kind that couldn't be laughed away. The kind that couldn't be flirted away. The kind that lingered.
Marco sighed. Long. Exhausted. "Damn it."
