Page 36 of Veil of Smoke

I don’t answer right away. She doesn’t rush me.

I pull in a breath.

“When I was seventeen,” I say, “my brother Massimo brought home a used motorcycle and parked it in our mother’s garden.”

That gets her attention. Her brow lifts, just slightly.

“She screamed at him for two hours,” I say. “He grinned the whole time. Told her it was freedom on two wheels. Said he bought it cheap from a guy who owed him a favor.”

“What happened to it?”

“He wrapped it around a stop sign three days later. Cracked a rib and a tooth. The bike didn’t survive.”

She smiles. Not wide, but real.

I let it sit for a second.

“He was four years older,” I say. “Faster. Smarter. Better at hiding things. When Caldera scouted him, I told him to say no. He said he’d handle it. That he had plans.”

I pause.

“He was good at plans.”

Her expression shifts—quiet, guarded. She steps a little closer.

I nod to the papers on the crate table. “He was supposed to run tech drops. Basic stuff. Handoff, walk away. But the last job…”

I close my hands.

“They gave us the wrong coordinates. Sent us into a trap. Corradino knew. He wanted the cargo to disappear. We were the sacrifice.”

Her voice is low. “You both went?”

I nod.

“I told him to hang back, let me scope it. He didn’t. We moved together.”

“What happened?”

I lift my hand, trace a scar near my collarbone.

“He bled out before the van even got away. I carried him two blocks through a freezing alley, and when I stopped, he was already cold.”

Viviana swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I am.”

“I was the one who said yes. Took the deal. Thought I could outsmart Corradino.”

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “That’s why you’re still doing this?”

“No,” I say. “That’s why I stopped trusting people who smile and make promises.”

She walks around the couch. Her arms are crossed, but her body isn’t tight anymore. She sits at the far end, just enough distance between us that it feels intentional.

“That’s not why you helped me,” she says.

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