Page 137 of Broken Honor

Mine steps closer, grumbling about “rats being fed better than kings.” He slides the tray forward with his foot, not bothering to look up.

My hand closes around the broken metal shard I’ve kept hidden beside the cot leg.

He turns too late.

My shoulder crashes into his chest, driving him back into the bars. The tray clatters to the ground. He grunts, reaching for his belt, but my elbow slams up into his throat. He gasps, stumbles. I swing the shard across his jaw—he goes down hard.

Across the hall, I hear a grunt, then the wet smack of knuckles hitting flesh. Riccardo’s guard gurgles, then collapses like a sack of bricks.

Riccardo steps over him, winded but grinning.

“Still got it,” he mutters, wiping his mouth.

We don’t stop to admire our handiwork.

I grab the guard’s key ring, toss Riccardo a blade from the other’s belt, and we flee.

We charge out into the corridor, boots slamming against concrete. The lights are flickering overhead, shadows stuttering on the cracked walls as we pass.

Twist left. Empty hallway.

Right. Another.

Then—

A guard turns the corner up ahead, holding a tablet. He looks up, sees us. His mouth opens.

“Back up!” he bellows, reaching for his comms.

“Run!” I shout.

We spin and bolt in the opposite direction, breath tearing through our lungs.

More halls. Another door.

It groans as I shove it open with my shoulder—and suddenly, we’re outside.

Cool air hits my face. My lungs suck it in like I’ve never tasted oxygen before.

Then I stop. Bugatti is waiting.

He’s standing in the courtyard, arms folded, ten—no—twelve men behind him. And he’s smiling like it’s Christmas morning.

“Well,” he says, stepping forward, “leaving so soon, boss?”

Riccardo spits at the dirt near his boots. “Go fuck yourself, Bugatti.”

Bugatti’s smirk doesn't even falter. His eyes flicker over to me. “You always did love a dramatic exit, Vieri. Your timing’s… impeccable.”

And Bellandi steps out from the shadows.

My lips part in a hollow chuckle. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I knew this old fool couldn’t be trusted!” Riccardo snaps.

The old man lifts his chin, smug as ever. “Surprise.”

My eyes narrow. “The diamonds. Where are they?”

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