Page 105 of The Beautiful Dead

“He’s upstairs in Federico’s room.”

The pounding of my footsteps was absorbed by the thick carpet as I climbed the stairs two at a time. Each step was a drumbeat in my head, driving me forward.A prickle of unease slithered down my spine.

Federico was injured, but a wounded animal was often the most dangerous. I knew Remi could handle himself—he never went anywhere unarmed—but Federico had years of experience. These walls, these hidden tunnels—they were his. He could be anywhere in an instant.

I hit the landing, my breath even, my muscles coiled tight. Federico had a panic room installed after his injury, a fortress built into the bones of this house. I was certain that was where he was heading. Where cowards hid until their reinforcements arrived.

Gun raised. Arm steady. I moved like a phantom through the hall. Silent. Predatory. Eyes darting, checking for any guards that might be patrolling the upper levels.

A noise carried through the still air. Low and dangerous. I slowed, my breath evening out, my heart hammering a steady rhythm against my ribs. I followed the sound, every step measured, each movement precise.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” Federico’s voice was raw with rage.

I kept to the shadows, moving closer until I could see through the partially open door. The angle kept me hidden, my presence nothing more than a whisper in the air.

Remi stood in the center of the room, his body still. Tense. A statue carved from ice and violence. But I saw the tightness around his eyes. Fear.

Federico had a gun raised, aimed directly at Remi’s head. His posture was loose but controlled. Calculating. A man who had spent his entire life deciding who lived and who died.

Remi didn’t flinch. He didn’t cower. Fuck, he was beautiful like this. On edge. Calculating.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me to intervene. To put a bullet between Federico’s eyes before his finger so much as twitched.

But I didn’t.

Because I wanted to see what Remi would do.

“I was looking for proof,” he said, voice level. Flat. “Proof that you arranged Domino’s mother’s death.”

Federico scoffed, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe the audacity. “You little freaks don’t know what you’re talking about.”

My fingers tightened around my gun. The way he said it—dismissive, like we were nothing.

Remi’s gaze flickered downward. Files and papers were scattered across the floor. Shattered truths.

His voice turned to steel. “All the proof I need is right there. The question is—why?”

“You don’t need to worry yourself about details you wouldn’t understand.” His voice dropped into something almost amused. Cruel. Then he tilted his head, eyes glinting. “You’re a cheap fuck. A distraction for my son. Nothing more.”

Remi didn’t flinch. I’d proved myself to him just like he had to me. There was nothing in this world that could tear us apart.

Federico cocked the gun, adjusting his stance. He tightened his aim. “And it’s about time I took out the trash.”

Something in me snapped. But I didn’t move. Not yet. I watched with unnerving focus. Tracked the way Federico’s shoulders locked, his stance squared. He was going to fire.

Remi must have sensed it, too. He shifted slightly, his lips parting—stalling. Fuck, he was perfect.

“If I’m going to die,” he said, voice steady, “you might as well tell me.” A small pause. Calculated. “Because we all know no one hears a dead man’s word.”

A sharp, dangerous grin split Federico’s face. His head tipped back on his shoulders and laughed. Cold. Cruel. Certain. That’s when he gave me exactly what I wanted. What I’d needed.

“Of course I killed her,” his tone almost bored. “She got in the way. She was going to ruin everything. And that baby of hers?” His head tilted slightly. Mocking. “An abomination.”

Remi’s hands curled into fists. His right hand shifted, fingers brushing over the strap around his forearm—where his knife was hidden.

Federico continued, oblivious to the danger standing in front of him. “But I trained him right. Broke him. And now? He’s my greatest weapon.”

I moved then like a shadow slipping through the room until I was right behind him. I pressed the cold metal of my Glock against his ear.

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