Page 52 of Power
I throw my phone onto his desk. He glances at it, unimpressed, until he reads the message. Then his expression shifts, but only slightly. Just a gleam of something colder in his eyes before they settle into that same detached stare.
“I need your protection,” I say. “He’s going to kill me.”
He doesn’t look up. "That’s not my problem."
"It is if he comes for you first."
Dario leans back in his chair, then exhales loudly but still doesn’t look up. "Enzo’s been coming for me for years. Nothing new there."
I step closer, then grip the back of the chair across from him. "He’s not playing anymore, Dario. He wanted you to react that night. He wanted to push you into a war. He wanted me dead in the crossfire, and he didn’t care how it happened. He’s not just coming for you. He’s trying to pull you apart, piece by piece."
Dario closes the file, finally looking at me. "And why should I keep you safe?"
I swallow. “Because I know things. Things you don’t. I can give you information—”
“I don’t need your scraps.” His voice is even. Too even. “You think I’d risk my people, my home, my life, because you’re suddenly afraid of the man you married?”
I swallow hard. “I was never afraid of him before.”
“No. Because you were on his side and doing his bidding like a little lap dog.”
I force myself to meet his eyes. “I came here to betray you,” I admit. “That’s true. I was supposed to keep you distracted, feed him information. But I stopped. I couldn’t go through with it. Not since–”
“Not since we started fucking.”
He studies me. I can’t tell what he’s looking for, but whatever it is, he doesn’t find it.
He leans back, watching me with the cool detachment of a man who has nothing left to lose. "And what can you give me?"
I hesitate. The words taste like betrayal. Maybe they are. But Enzo threw me to the wolves, and I’m done pretending I owe him anything.
"I know how he funds his operations," I say. "I know where he launders his money. And I know how you can find Vincenzo Moretti."
Dario doesn’t move but I see the shift—the quick, precise calculation behind his eyes.
“And how do you know I’m looking for him?”
“Because I’ve heard you mention the name once or twice and I know Enzo’s been paranoid since he went AWOL.”
“Ok. But that bastard is good at not being found. I’ve been hunting him for months. My last lead took me to Naples, but it’s like he saw me coming. Vanished before I even had a chance.”
I let the stillness hang for a second. Then, quietly, “Vigo has a daughter.”
Dario’s eyes widen.
“She’s six,” I continue. “No one knows about her because he lost custody years ago, but I used to buy her gifts on Enzo’s behalf. Enzo doesn’t even know she exists. Find her, and you’ll find him.”
A pause. Then, Dario exhales slowly and shakes his head. "And how can I trust you? After all, you've had no problems fucking me while lying to me all along."
I swallow against the sting, but it lodges deep. His eyes—once warm, once wanting—are cold now, empty of everything I’d foolishly let myself crave. I can’t stand it. I want to claw my way back into his good graces, but there’s no path left. I burned it myself.
"I don’t have a choice." My voice is barely more than a whisper, but it’s the truest thing I’ve ever said. "I won’t be stupid enough to deceive you a second time. I know you’ll kill me without hesitation this time."
Something shifts behind his eyes, too fast to catch.
Another pause. Then, finally—“You can stay. But only because killing you right now would be inconvenient. You’ll tell me everything I don’t already know about Enzo. And when this is over, I never want to see you again. I will kill you if I do.”
His voice is casual, like we’re discussing the weather. Like I don’t matter at all.
