Page 35 of Broken Honor

Then she turns toward me.

Her face changes instantly.

“Lune,” she breathes.

I’m still on my knees, hands trembling, eyes glassy with tears. I try to speak, but only a choking sound comes out.

Bea rushes toward me, dropping down beside me, pulling me into her arms. I bury my face in her shoulder, sobbing, my fingers clutching the front of her coat.

“Shh,” she whispers. “You’re safe now. It’s alright. It’s over.”

My lips tremble as I gasp, “I didn’t know—I didn’t think—he was so sweet, Bea—he was so sweet—”

“It’s okay Lune, breathe,” she says fiercely, her hands smoothing down my hair.

“I thought—if I married him—if I was good—”

“Lune,” she says, holding me tighter, “it’s okay, it's okay.”

Chapter Six – Vieri

The soft chime from my phone cuts through the quiet. I reach for it without urgency. The message is brief.

Bugatti: Downstairs.

I slip on my coat, smoothing the collar absently as I make my way down the corridor. My footsteps echo faintly through the marble hall, past the closed doors and quiet portraits. The mansion always feels colder at night.

Outside, the gate sensors click softly as I approach. I step into the night air, sharp and clean.

Bugatti stands just beyond the gate, next to his car—engine running, headlights dimmed. His shoulders are squared, coat drawn tight, hands buried in his pockets.

I walk toward him.

“Well?” I say.

“We’ve got two leads.”

I stop in front of him. He doesn’t meet my eyes right away.

“First,” he says, “Mother J’s son. The one you had me tracking.”

My brow twitches. “Alive?”

Bugatti shakes his head. “No. We think he’s dead. A body turned up three days ago—found at a café in the suburbs. PD picked it up. Multiple gunshots. They listed it under a false name, but something in the chain of handling flagged it for our guy on the inside.”

I watch him closely. “You’re sure it’s him?”

“Not yet. Coroner logs him in as unidentified. Body’s in storage. Autopsy’s completed. They’re treating it as gang violence. But everything lines up. Age, height, scars.”

“Any confirmation?”

“We’re working on it. One of our men lifted a brush from Mother J’s estate before it was stripped. DNA’s being compared now. If it’s a match, we’ll have it by morning.”

“And the second lead?”

Bugatti shifts slightly, bracing one hand against the top of the car door. “It’s about Lena and Vasco.”

My gaze snaps back to him. “What about them?”

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