Page 108 of Luciano

The training.

She had been planning something.

I knew it—but I couldn’t figure out what.

I got distracted.

She needed a locked room and with him.

And I’d handed it to her.

“Fuck.”

I turned and sprinted for the house.

“Luciano!”Saint’s shout chased after me.“What’s wrong?”

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t.

Because if I was right—

I was already too late.

Chapter 49

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

Then—crack.

The shovel connected with Vito’s skull, sounding like splitting oak. He dropped like a sack of bricks, his body slamming into the concrete hard enough to rattle the shelves.

I didn’t wait for him to move.

The rope was already waiting. It was the same thick industrial kind Luciano had used to teach me knots."Always double-loop it,"he’d said, his hands guiding mine."No room for mistakes."

No mistakes now.

I paused for a second to think of how Luciano would feel, knowing he’d trained me to kill his father. I felt bad.I really did like Luciano.

I could even see myself loving him one day.

But this wasn’t about love.

It was about justice.

About the way men like Vito and my father poisoned everything they touched and expected to be honored for it.

Vito killed my mother.

And then he sat across from me, smug and composed, like her death was a business deal I should understand.

If I was right about Luciano, he would forgive me for killing him.

If I was wrong? I was dead. Either way, Vito didn’t get away with what he’d done.

---