Page 107 of Virtuous Lies

Her head shakes so fast that I pull at my cuffs in panic, the clusterfuck in front of me escalating with every rushed beat of my heart.

“I would lower your gun.” Vincent’s presence engulfs the room, the quiet threat as powerful as the sound of a sailing bullet. “Because if by some miracle you walk away today—”

“You won’t,” Enzo promises.

“There isn’t a trace of land you can find in this fucked-up world where I won’t track you down to. And when I find you, I won’t just kill you. I’ll drain every last drop of blood from your traitorous body, and I’ll do that while you’re forced to watch. You’ll stare at your own reflection as you die, knowing that you murdered yourself.”

Krista’s fingers pulse against the trigger. She sniffs, not game enough to move to wipe the tears falling over her cheeks. She blinks rapidly, her tears not allowing her to focus. She knows she’s going to die. Her only decision right here is whether she takes me along with her.

I yank at the cuff. “No,” I cry. “This has nothing to do with me.”

The barrel of Krista’s gun mocks me with frenzy, and I know she’s unhinged enough to take my life.

The five men in the room taking aim at the disgraced detective do nothing to ease my fear. Even if they shoot first, there’s no guarantee she won’t fire a round off before her heart stops.

Danny pushes down on his trigger, and I can’t help but feel a sense of pity for the woman who became consumed with something she never had a hope of surviving.

Bile rushes up my throat at the ear-piercing bang.

Krista falls to the ground, and I scream.

twenty-five

“Dolcezza.”

Our bedroom is dark, our thick curtains closed to remove all traces of light.

“Is it over?” The emptiness in my voice sounds out of place with the heavy emotion sitting upon my chest.

“Yes.” The edge of our bed dips with his weight. He switches on the lamp on our bedside table, and I close my eyes against the sudden intrusion of light.

“Is Gabbi safe?”

He texted me earlier confirming this already, but a message doesn’t seem sufficient to convey the truth in his words. I want to hear him say it.

“Safe and unharmed,” he assures me.

The pressure on my chest gives slightly. “Where is she?”

He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, but I can’t bring myself to look at him.

“In her apartment. She wanted to sleep.”

“She’s alone?”

“Enzo is there.” I ignore the spike of annoyance in his tone.

“And Tri—Krista?”

“Dead,” he says without remorse.

I feel relief and heartbreak all at once. A sob coughs from my throat, and I slam my lips shut, trying to stop another from escaping.

“Bianca,” he breathes.

“Will you kill me?” I wipe my nose with the sleeve of my sweater, not bothering to lift my head from my pillow.

“Why would I kill you?” His hand pauses against my cheek, my hair held limply in his fingers.

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