Page 19 of Veil of Secrets

I wipe the knife on his jacket. Press a hand to his chest.

“Tell him no,” I say to the still-open eyes.

He’s not breathing anymore. Doesn’t matter.

The message’s already sent.

I stand, breathing even.

The wind’s worse now, tugging at my coat. The lamp above swings harder.

Behind me, footsteps.

I don’t turn right away. I know the stride.

Luca.

He stops a few feet back. I hear him pull in a breath like he ran the last leg of the boardwalk.

“You didn’t have to gut the guy,” he says.

I finally turn.

“He had a gun.”

Luca stares at the body, lips pressed tight.

“Still. This makes it messy.”

“It makes it clear.”

He steps forward, scans the scene. His foot nudges the pistol the runner dropped.

“You could’ve just—”

“No. We’re past warnings.”

Luca looks at me now, eyes narrowed.

“You’re trying to scare Marco?”

“I’m reminding him who built this pier,” I say. “Who bled on it first.”

He doesn’t argue. He knows the history.

Marco Salvatore wasn’t Brotherhood. He wasn’t even second-gen when we let him in. He was a favor. A token. We gave him routes, guards, profit. And now he wants to forget how he got any of it.

Luca sighs. “You know this’ll escalate.”

“It already has.”

The wind kicks again. Rain starts to spit—cold, sharp drops pelting our jackets.

Luca pulls up his hood. I don’t bother.

He glances at me, then past me, toward the end of the pier where the blood’s pooling.

“You’ve been different lately.”

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