Page 13 of Obsidian Devotion

I push the memory away. "They're not our concern."

"That's not how family works, Lorenzo," Olivia says quietly. "You taught me that."

The irony burns worse than the whiskey. Family. Loyalty. The principles I've killed for, bled for. The same principles Gabriel has shattered.

"I'll handle it," I say again, more firmly this time. "I need an address, security details, patrol schedules. Everything you can get me in the next hour."

Olivia hesitates, then nods once. "And if you fail? If they connect this back to us?"

“Then you get your wish. You have one less annoying brother.”

"Don't joke about that." She slaps my forearms.

"Who's joking? We both know how this works." I cross to my desk, pulling out the bottom drawer where I keep my weapon. "The family survives, no matter the cost."

Olivia watches me check the gun, her face pale. "Be careful. Please."

"Always am, little sister." I tuck the weapon into my holster. "Now go. Get me what I need."

After she leaves, I sit alone in the silence, running through scenarios, calculating risks. The full weight of the Bellanti operation presses down on my shoulders. One wrong move, and it all collapses.

A soft knock interrupts my thoughts.

"Enter," I call, expecting Olivia with the information.

Instead, Sofia steps through the door, a bottle of my preferred whiskey in one hand.

"Thought you might need a refill," she says, eyeing my empty glass. "Looked like a serious conversation."

I study her, searching for any sign that she overheard. Her expression gives nothing away.

"Business," I say dismissively. "Nothing that concerns you."

She places the bottle on my desk, closer than necessary. I catch the scent of her perfume—something citrusy.

"Everything in this club concerns me," she replies, the hint of a challenge in her voice. "Especially when it has you looking like you're planning a war."

I snort. "Perceptive, aren't you?"

"It's my job to read people." She shrugs, leaning against my desk. "And right now, you're an open book."

"Is that so?" I lean back in my chair, curious despite the urgency of the situation. "And what am I saying?"

Her eyes meet mine, unflinching. "That you're hunting someone who knows too much."

My blood turns cold. I keep my expression neutral, but my hand instinctively moves toward my weapon.

Sofia notices the movement and smiles. "Relax. Like I said, it's my job to read people. The tension in the room when your sister arrived, the way you immediately checked your gun afterward..." She shrugs. "Doesn't take a genius."

"It takes someone who's watching carefully," I counter, studying her. "Why are you watching me so closely, Sofia?"

Something flickers across her face too quickly to identify. "You're the most interesting person in the room. Where else would I look?"

The echo of our earlier conversation isn't lost on me. I stand, moving into her space, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her blue eyes, the slight quickening of her pulse at her throat.

"And what do you see when you look at me?"

Her gaze drops to my mouth for the briefest second before returning to my eyes. "Someone who's about to do something dangerous and probably stupid."

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