Page 84 of The Syndicater (Dark Verse 6)

He checked the furniture, the sides, the back, and the front, for hidden compartments but found none. It was just a simple but well-made old desk.

Next, he moved to the wall, lightly tapping it to check for any hollows. One wall, two, three, four. Up, down, sides, center. Minutes passed, and nothing.

Next, he crouched on the ground and looked at the flooring, under the rugs and outside of it, for any loose or uneven areas. Nothing.

Almost an hour passed, and Dainn didn't find anything at all. He was in the middle of the room, recalling what his source had said.

"The Reaper had a file," the man he was interrogating choked on the water he was holding him under. "Maroni kept it in his office after he killed him. Please. Let me go."

Since his conversation with Xavier, Dainn had spent his time tracking down any seeds of the rumors he had talked about. He had started with tracking Maroni's man Vin through the last contact he'd had with them, seeing all the texts going back months for clues but not finding much. Word on the ground said he'd run off with the slave he'd been using to go undercover, but Dainn was doubtful. They had run, that was true. For their sakes, he hoped they'd gotten out but if they hadn't, it was likely that Vin was already dead and buried with the girl somewhere.

And after days of weeding through nothing about the rumors, he had found a thread. A man who had worked with the Alliance—the deal between Lorenzo Maroni, Gabriel Vitalio, and The Reaper, a deal which had looked like a partnership for cooperation for business, but the first two had joined hands with The Syndicate, and things had gotten messy. This was why he preferred to operate solo. People were messy and liabilities, especially in shady business. That one little thing had spiraled out of control, destroying both the Reaper and Gabriel, to the point that no one talked about the Alliance anymore because of what an example it had been for anyone who dared to step out of line against The Syndicate. People thought it had been Lorenzo Maroni's doing since he had been the only one left unscathed, but Maroni had been a puppet, invisible hands pulling his strings behind the scenes, untouched because he had kept himself in their line.

Dainn stayed crouched on the floor in the dark, examining the entire space with clinical, methodical eyes and a cool mind. He thought to himself where he would hide things he kept as leverage that he never wanted anyone to find. His eyes stoppedon a small painting of the hills, one he knew Dante Maroni hadn't moved because it had been his mother's creation.

Could Lorenzo Maroni be that predictable?

Dainn straightened and went straight to the painting, hoping he didn't have to destroy it. He might not have been emotional, but Dante Maroni was, and he'd loved his mother. In fact, Dante's blind love for his mother must have been something Lorenzo had relied on and expected that his son would never touch the painting.

Dainn tilted the small painting to the side, finding nothing but a wall at the back. He tapped it just to be sure. Stone.

He took the painting off the hook and turned it around. Sure enough, the inner lining at the back of the frame bulged. What afoolishplace to hide shit. This just proved what he knew even more—Lorenzo had been more stupid than smart, more balls than brains.

Quickly removing a knife from his inner pocket, he made a small cut at the back and peeked inside.

Papers.

Clinically, he cut the back open, being careful not to nick the painting, and removed the singular file.

Pressing the lining back and hanging the artwork back exactly as it had been, he turned the file over, making out nothing in the dark.

Nothing but a symbol, one he'd seen many times. Two intertwined snakes eating their own tails.

He tilted the file toward the window, looking at the large print on top of it in the minimal light. Two words.

PROJECT

OUROBOROS

It was real.

Fucking hell.

He pocketed the knife and put the file inside his hoodie to keep it safe, knowing its importance. He was going to read every fucking word of it when he got to a secure location.

Returning to the desk, he left the photograph he had brought with him for Dante Maroni to find. A gift since hisflammahad asked him to keep them in his circle of protection now.

And then the Shadow Man slipped away like he'd never been there.

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