Page 57 of As Angels Sin

“His folks pulled the plug after his third year in that coma.” I still don’t care. “He should’ve known better than to fuck with you.” Mark swallows a mouthful of blood. “Him and me.”

“Should have.” I say it too late, not that there was convenient moment earlier. His body goes limp in my lap, and his eyes glass over with that empty stare I usually get such a kick out of seeing.

I choose not to watch his light go out. As much as it will irritate my shadow, Mark isn’t one of my victims. He was a friend, and I like to think he was a good one. But how can I say any different, when he’s my only reference?

I leave him there, in the field, staring at the sky where his soul drifted to, without my shadow to snatch it. I am hurt worse than I thought I’d be, and I limp to my car.

Inside, I grab a medical pack from the glove box and pour a healthy dose of antiseptic ointment onto the cut on my leg, then bandage it up. I douse my lip with the same ointment, though that’s out of habit rather than the fear that a fat lip will get infected. Finally, I plaster my knuckles where Mark’s teeth tore the skin.

One more. The BIG one. Then I can go home to her. To them.

It’s a pretty thought, although it clashes with my certainty that I won’t make it out of Matteo’s villa alive.

Chapter Twenty-Five

CRUE

All hands on deck. Batten down the hatches. We need to secure the ship!

That’s what I imagine Matteo will be screaming, at the top of his lungs, during my long drive from the open field to his villa in the city. However, when I pull into his driveway, I don’t see any stragglers or unfamiliar faces scurrying about or pointing guns at my head. Then, I remember that Matteo still doesn’t know anything.

Mark held off on telling him about Tomas. Which means he wouldn’t have told Matteo where he was headed today. Both of my dirty little secrets lie dead in that open field, and Matteo has no fucking idea.

I grin at the doorman as I get out of the car. I even consider speaking to him today. As a gesture of good faith for what I’m about to do. But I don’t, because I’ve never liked the smug look on his face.

I meet him at the top of the white stone staircase, and he leads me into the building. We walk a while, and I scan my surroundings all the way. There are no guards, no Baronne men on patrol, and no big guns focused on little old me. There is only glorious nothing.

For the most part, this makes sense. Matteo has no reason to have an armed force patrolling his home. He had control of this situation from the start, and has puppeteered his way to victory, via Lorenzo’s death.

Lorenzo, on the other hand, had a good reason for his guards and patrols.

Me.

“You’re a lucky man.” I decide Iwillspeak to the doorman, and I say this as we reach the staircase. Matteo’s office isn’t far now, and I’ve been here enough times not to need a guide. Additionally, if I’m going to do this, I have to finish it before we get too far into the house.

He shoots me a narrow-eyed glare but doesn’t say anything.

Sensing danger, are we?

“I only planned on killing three today. Take pride in knowing you’re the fourth.”

“Wh—”, I force all six inches of my stunning silver dagger into the back of his head, cutting the question right out of his mouth from behind. His body pools into a sprawled mess on the floor. I lean down, clean my blade on his jacket, and continue heading upstairs.

“Crue?” Matteo looks up from whatever’s on his desk as I enter. “I didn’t know you were coming over today. Wasn’t Lucas at the door?”

“He was, but I told him about our new relationship and said he didn’t have to bother walking me over.” I cross to Matteo’s table and take a seat, watching a smile grow on his face.

“Only you have this power over people, Crue. And lucky for him. If he’d have let anyone else come through without an announcement, I’d have him killed.” Matteo shuts the folder he’s scanning, and gives me his full attention.

Beat you to it.

“Is there a reason you like having your guests announced?” I thought it was for show, a scare tactic.

“You never know what’s lurking in the shadows.” He scratches the top of his forehead, against his hairline. “It’s a way of rooting out the danger before it presents itself.”

I do. Then again, my shadow is the danger as much as I am.

“Smart way of handling things.” I shouldn’t have sat down. How am I going to get close enough to stab him in the heart while I’m sitting here. Though standing would’ve been more suspicious. We’refriendsnow. Seated and vulnerable is a comfortable state between friends.

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