Page 106 of Made for Sinners

But my gut?

My gut had already known.

“I’m sure,” she said, her voice stronger now. “I didn’t recognize him at first. But when I saw him tonight—when he came up to me—I knew. I knew it was him.”

I leaned back against the seat, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.

“I’m sure,” she said, finally meeting my eyes. “Dante, I’m one hundred percent sure. It’s him.”

I didn’t speak.

Couldn’t.

Because every piece that had been floating in the air—every suspicion, every unanswered question—just slammed into place.

Rocco.

My cousin.

My blood.

I turned my gaze to the window, but I wasn’t seeing the city anymore.

I was seeing him.

Smiling. Charming. Always in the background. Always just close enough to be useful, but never close enough to be watched.

And now?

Now he was the fucking ghost in the machine.

I exhaled slowly, my breath fogging the window.

“Dante,” Emilia said, her voice softer now. “I didn’t know until tonight. I swear. But when I saw him—when he spoke to me—I knew. It was the way he looked at me. Like he remembered, too.”

I turned back to her, my voice low. “Did he say anything?”

“No,” she said. “Not directly. But it was there. In his eyes. Like he was waiting for me to figure it out.”

I looked at her, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak.

“He trained me,” Emilia said, her voice quieter now. “When I was learning the books. The codes. He was there. He knew everything.”

Because I knew what that meant.

He hadn’t just been watching.

He’d been planning.

He’d used her.

He’d used her to get to the money. To cover his tracks. To play all of us like fucking fools.

And I’d let him.

Worse—I’d fallen for it. I’d hurt her because of it. I’d looked her in the eyes and accused her of betraying me when all along, it was him. My blood. My family. My mistake.

I had hurt her.

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