Page 19 of Inferno

“Trust. Romeo. You don’t walk into a war zone unarmed when you don’t know who you’re up against. I don’t step foot outside of my house without a blade on me. That never changes.”

I shove my hand in my pocket, my expression remaining neutral.

“Being unarmed is reckless.”

A slow smirk, revealing a flash of white teeth, spreads across his lips. He’s amused, maybe impressed.

“What’s to say you don’t slice that across my throat?” He tilts his head.

“Because you know we need Enzo more than he needs us. And you have my brothers locked in a scorching truck.”

Everything today is a test.

“Let’s go,” he tells me and stalks off.

Following him to the metal unit at the end of the track, I watch as he shoves the door open with a loud screech of metal and fires an echoing bullet into the ceiling.

“Miguel. Get the fuck out here now!” he bellows.

A man in his fifties storms out of the back office, the weight of the world dragging down his shoulders. Sweat drips from his thick, dark brows, and he wipes it away with a trembling hand, like the truth he doesn’t want to say is already burning his skin.

“Declan, go check the back, make sure no one else is inside. Count the crates.”

“Got it.”

I head further through the warehouse. Stacks and stacks of crates, up to the ceiling. Retrieving my knife, I check behind each one and count, the temptation of opening one of the wooden boxes eating away at me.

By the time I get that done and head back to Romeo, a cacophony of shouting in Spanish hits me. As I round the corner, I stop when I find Miguel on his knees with his hands behind his head and Romeo pressing his gun against his forehead.

I approach slowly.

“Thirty-nine,” I tell him.

Romeo’s eyes darken as he glares at Miguel.

“We save you. We pay you well. We give your daughters a new life in Italy. And this is how you repay us? By fucking stealing?” Romeo shouts in his face.

Miguel squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, his body trembling.

“I-I didn’t. I promise. That is all the deliveries.”

Romeo nods, taking a step back. An evil chuckle escapes him as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“You think I’m fucking stupid?”

He shoves his hand out and grabs Miguel by the neck, slamming him into the wall.

“I had my men watch over that delivery. We saw exactly who you handed it over to. We tracked it down and retrieved it. Fifty thousand? You really risked your life for a measly fifty thousand? On a crate worth a hundred? You are the stupid asshole.”

With a grunt, he releases his grip, sending the man sprawling to the ground, and then brings his foot down on his throat.

With my arms crossed tightly over my chest, Romeo thrust the gun toward me, his wild brown eyes filled with manic energy.

“Show me,” he demands, his voice sharp and cutting through the silence.

“What?” I step forward.

“I’d like to see what you would do, as a boss to a traitor.”

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