Page 116 of Veil of Obsession
“I want you gone.”
“And Lucio?”
I lift my chin. “He doesn’t need to know.”
He gives me a long look. One I can’t read. Then he reaches into his coat and pulls out a black flip phone. Tosses it on the bed.
“You’ve got forty-eight hours to disappear. Take him or don’t, I don’t care. But if I catch wind of you still in Camorra territory after that?” His jaw tics. “I’ll bury you myself.”
“I believe you.”
“You should.”
He turns to leave, blood dripping onto the floor behind him. At the door, he pauses.
“When I find the person who gave you that intel, I’m going to kill them.”
I don’t blink. “I’m sure you’ll try.”
And then he’s gone.
I don’t move for a long time.
The room feels colder now. The phone glows faintly where it landed. My hand trembles as I pick it up, as I close the door behind me and press my back against it.
Forty-eight hours.
And a war I never meant to start.
43
Lucio
The second I step into Dom’s place, the smell of old bourbon and leather hits me like a punch to the face. The lighting’s low, warm, too calm for what the fuck we’re about to get into. Everything in this house looks like it belongs in a museum: polished floors, crystal decanters, delicate art lining the walls.
I don’t belong here. But that doesn’t stop me.
Romiro’s already pacing by the staircase, jaw tight, hands on his hips like he’s holding himself back from throwing something. Dominico lounges in the armchair near the fireplace like he owns the fucking world, his gold signet ring catching the light as he swirls a glass of scotch.
They don’t look up when I enter. They don’t have to.
“You called?” I say, voice flat.
Romiro turns first. “You should’ve come here on your own.”
Dom doesn’t even bother greeting me. “You’ve got nerve showing up with blood still on your shirt.”
I glance down. There’s still a faint rust stain near the hem. Not mine.
“Get to the point.”
Romiro stops pacing. His voice is low, clipped. “We know the breach came from her place.”
My stomach knots. “You don’t know shit.”
“We traced the signal,” Dom says, standing now, placing the glass down on the table like he’s preparing for war. “It pinged right off her router. She opened the fucking door, Lucio.”
“You think she did it on purpose?” I bark. “You think she planned for Ma to get caught in the crossfire? You think she wanted bullets in our fucking house?”
