Let her think Vescovi. Let her think Cassian.
That was my pawn. That was my play.
“What if,” she said, speaking slowly, “the killers are someone you know? Someone you care about?”
I gave a half-smile. “Nobody loves me. I love no one. No offense.”
She lifted both hands. “None taken.”
I exhaled… then shook my head. “That’s not entirely true.”
She stilled.
“I loved him,” I admitted. “And he never got a day like today.”
Her eyes flicked to the hallway—to the laughter, the balloons, the chaos.
“No balloons,” I continued. “No stupid dinosaur cake. No ice cream worth bragging about.” My voice tightened despite myself. “All he had was trust.”
I met her gaze fully.
“And he put it in me.”
Silence stretched between us.
“He lost it with a bullet between the eyes,” I finished quietly. “So even if the killer turns out to be you…”
Her breath caught.
“…I’ll return the favor in kind,” I whisper hoarsely.
She didn’t respond right away.
Didn’t even flinch.
Had she already accepted her fate?
The air was still, stagnant between us, filled with too many questions and not enough answers, maybe because neither of us had any.
She let go of my hair slowly. Carefully. Like touching me might cost her something.
And in that moment, I realized something dangerous.
I didn’t plan for her to see me like this.
And I didn’t plan for it to matter as much as it did.
I didn’t expect to feel, and I didn’t want to. I wanted to get the job done and stop being distracted by the obviously beautiful woman in front of me and the danger lurking behind the depths of her eyes.
15
TEMPEST
Power is everywhere; not because it embraces everything, but because it comes from everywhere. — Michel Foucault
Ididn’t follow him right away.
I waited until his footsteps faded down the hall, until the house swallowed him back into noise and laughter and lies. Until I was alone in the bathroom that still smelled faintly of bile and mint and something raw I didn’t have a name for.