Page 47 of Retaliation

The Don regarded her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before offering a faint shrug.

“Unfortunately, the details are scarce. You seem to have more information than I do,” he admitted. “Tidal’s sudden disappearance, well, death, I suppose, took us by surprise. As for those who took him…” He trailed off.

Her brow furrowed in frustration at the lack of answers.

“Surely someone must have seen something,” she pressed. “What about Giovanni and Roberto? Did they witness anything unusual?”

A shadow passed over the Don’s features, a brief glimpse of concern.

“Giovanni and Roberto are loyal men,” he replied cryptically, guarded. “But even they were unable to shed light on Tidal’s fate.”

Poison’s grip tightened around her glass, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. It was maddening to be met with such a wall of silence, especially when the stakes were so high. But she knew she was playing with fire in questioning the Don of all people.

“And the men who took Tidal out of the Quarry?” she pressed again. “What became of them?”

A flicker of something unreadable flashed in the Don’s eyes before he shook his head dismissively.

“They have been dealt with,” he replied with finality.

Poison’s jaw clenched at the vague response, her mind racing with unanswered questions. It was clear that the Don was keeping something from her, something crucial to understanding the events that had unfolded.

“What is it to you?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

“I just,” She took a moment to collect her thoughts before pressing the matter. Fuck consequences. She needed answers. “I’m just wondering what happened from the moment they carried him out of the ring to him dying in a hospital. The timeframe doesn’t add up.”

With a raised eyebrow, the Don asked: “What do you mean?”

“He was unconscious when they carried him off. There were only about thirty minutes from the moment he hit the floor to his death. Whoever shot him must have done so in the ambulance. There’s no way they could have responded so quickly to a call.”

The Don leaned back in his chair, contemplating with a hand in his silver-flecked hair.

“You have reason to believe it was premeditated?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. Do you know why someone would target Tidal?” she asked, trying to piece the puzzle together.

But the look the Don gave her made her close her mouth with a low thud as her teeth connected—bowing her head.

“Your affairs are none of my business. I apologize, Don.”

Fuck, she had gone too far. She was pressing the buttons of a man who could have her killed in the blink of an eye.

To her surprise, a low chuckle rippled from his chest.

“Miss Sloan,” He tried to get his laughter under control, without succeeding. “It would only be you who would dare to question my authority.”

“I do apologize, Don. It won’t happen again.”

“You know; you were eighteen when you told me that the first time.”

The memory hit her like a slap in the face.

“I was very young and naïve,” she countered, smiling at the memory of how she accidentally ran her mouth to him—not knowing he was the fucking Don of the Italian Mafia.

“And when you were twenty-one?” he challenged, openly smiling at her.

“I was…” She couldn’t help but smile back—she was chatting to the Don as if they were equals. “I was angry,” she finished, shrugging.

“And now?”

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