Page 92 of Luciano

I didn’t want him haunted by it the way he is with his mother.

This was my cross to bear.

One day. When the time was right, I’d get rid of it.

So I took a slow breath and lied.

"I forgive you,” I said softly.

His eyes narrowed.

“Do you?”

“I do. For Luciano. Because this is a twisted world we’ve all been dragged into and sometimes you have to do things that don’t make sense to survive. Let’s keep things… amicable.”

He looked relieved. Even proud of himself. He thought this was the end of it.

I stood up and returnedThe Princeto the shelf, letting my fingers trail over the spines of the books.

Then I left the room, leaving him sitting alone, thinking he had won.

Chapter 42

Luciano

We were parked two clicks out, behind a line of pine trees, just shy of a crumbling dock on Lake Panasoffkee.

The house wasn’t visible from the road.

But that was the point.

Russo had chosen isolation instead of fighting the war he started. His sons were dead because of him.

There were men inside with him.

At least six. Maybe more.

I crouched near the tree line, watching through a scope.

Brooker stood beside me, chewing gum like we weren’t thirty feet from a bloodbath.

Saint was quieter than usual, eyes scanning the tree line, dead calm.

This was our second strike in three days.

Before Ava, these missions were the only way I ever felt anything.

But now?

The buzz was muted and dull, like music under a closed door.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her warmth. Her voice. The way she touched me. Her taste.

I blinked once and reset.

Focus, Luciano.

I tapped my earpiece.

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