A drag pattern toward the exit.
She had fought.Of course she had.Neve didn’t go quietly.She was no longer that person.
But the evidence said it anyway.
She lost.
I stood in the wreckage of her small life, and something old and violent unfurled in my chest.
It wasn’t concern.Nor guilt.But possession.
Neve Trimboli wasmyproblem.She was my decision, my loose end.
And someone else had stepped into that space like they had the right.
19
Atlas
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
It was Gianni.
Like the universe had a fucking sense of humor.
I stared at the shattered vase, at the blood, at the ruined garden outside the little house.
I could ignore the call.I could handle this alone.I could do what I always did: move fast, brutal, efficient, and leave nothing alive behind me.
But I’d promised.
And the worst part?
A promise to Gianni wasn’t like a promise to anyone else.
It stuck.
I answered on the first ring.
“Cuz?”His voice was bright, distracted, full of a life I didn’t have.“Hey, I’m just walking into the clinic.Mikayla’s threatening to bite a nurse if they don’t hurry.You good?”
I looked at the blood again.
No.I wasn’t good.
My voice came out flat.Controlled.“Stay with Mikayla then come straight back.”
There was a beat of silence.His tone shifted instantly.“Where are you?”
I gave him the address.
He didn’t ask why.He just exhaled once, like he’d already accepted the day was about to turn ugly.
“I’m on my way.”
“And Gianni,” I added, staring at the zip-tie in the dust.
“Yeah?”