Page 71 of Seeking Shadows

She looks down, her voice smaller. “Do you think I’ll always be like this?”

“No,” I say. “I think you’re trying. And I think that matters.”

A flicker of something passes across her face. Not quite belief, but not denial either.

She smiles softly. “You always were a better liar.”

“Maybe,” I murmur. “But not with you.”

We sit in the hush of that moment, fingers still barely touching.

And for just a breath, the war outside doesn’t matter.

The lamp cast sharpshadows on the table, their angles sharp as they reflected in the wine-dark glass of Nico Riviera. He sliced the meat with surgical precision, the blade’s scrape against the porcelain cutting through the thick silence like a threat. A controlled gesture, meticulous.

"I heard about the incident with one of the businessmen." His tone was casual, but his eyes spoke otherwise.

He’s only saying that to torture Mia. Every time we met to talk business, he never once mentioned the fact that I killed someone — not a word, not even a look. Now he’s bringing it up just to get to her, and it’s messing with my head.

It makes my chest burn. I can’t stand it. He’s using her pain like it’s a game, and that drives me insane.

I leaned back in my chair, swirling my wine glass lazily between my fingers. "I didn’t know you enjoyed gossip."

Nico let out a small smile, devoid of humor. "They’re not my type, I admit. But I’m intrigued." He sipped his wine, then gently set the glass down and fixed his gaze on me. "If I didn’t know your reputation for being merciless, I’d say they’ve found your weakness."

This was a test. He was probing, trying to find a crack, something to leverage against me.

I’m getting good at playing the Mafia shadow man, but damn, it’s exhausting. It’s not my style—too much tension, too much noise under the surface. I miss my old life, the one that didn’t require pretending, where things were simple and I could breathe without all this weight hanging over me. But if this is the role I have to take on, then I’ll do it right. With precision, no hesitation. Even if it doesn’t feel like me, I’ll make it work.

I smirked, lazy, lethal. "Don’t mistake me for a fool," I said, my voice cold, calculated. "I did it because he touched something of mine. And where I come from, we deal with people who touch what doesn’t belong to them. That’s called punishment."

Nico studied me, eyes sharp, analyzing every detail. Then, he tilted his head slightly. "Understandable."

The air felt thick, heavy, like the seconds between us were being measured.

"Speaking of things that belong to someone…" He wiped his mouth with a napkin and turned his gaze back to me. "I wonder when we’ll make progress with the new drugs. Or better yet, have you considered working with Dr. Rachel Wayne on it?"

My hand tightened around the glass before I could stop it.

Rachel Wayne.

Her name tasted bitter, like something sour I couldn’t get rid of. I breathed, letting out a low, empty laugh.

"Dr. Wayne?" I glanced at him, bored. "I’d rather cut my own throat than work with that woman."

Nico raised an eyebrow, interested. "She has that effect on you?"

"She’s trash," I said, my contempt for her clear. "If I’m involved in this business, Riviera, it’s because I want control. And working with Rachel Wayne means handing that control to a poisonous snake."

He held my gaze, weighing my words, calculating my every reaction. Then, he smiled.

"Why the insistence on her?" I crossed my arms, my posture relaxed, but my voice sharp. "I have my own methods. And they work."

"Oh, I don’t doubt that." His gaze shifted away from me, landing on her.

On Mia.

Something inside me sparked.

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