Page 56 of Veil of Secrets

Fake documents. Black and white prints. Screenshots that are too perfect. Photos of me in public places—talking to people I don’t know, standing near cars that could belong to anyone.

Then one printout of a supposed message thread.

My name at the top.

Marco’s at the bottom.

It’s trash.

“Nice work,” I mutter. “Photoshop’s really come a long way.”

“You’d know,” Vince says smoothly. “Didn’t you used to forge flower licenses for off-books shipments?”

I take two steps forward and grab his lapel.

Hard.

He doesn’t flinch, but his smirk falters.

“Try that line again,” I say, “and I’ll throw you off this fucking roof.”

His eyes flick to Nico.

Nico doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.

Vince swallows.

“Relax,” he says. “Just bringing it to the surface. Better now than when Marco uses it.”

I shove him back.

He stumbles against the ledge, catches himself with one hand.

“You always were good at stirring shit and walking away,” I snap.

He adjusts his jacket. “Just calling it like it is. Every empire falls through its soft spots.” He glances at Nico now. “This one just happens to wear a chain and lace.”

Nico steps forward then.

Finally.

Voice flat. “We’re done here.”

Vince lifts both hands like he’s the victim.

Then walks toward the stairs, slow and smug.

At the door, he pauses.

“Careful who you trust, Drago. History repeats itself.”

He disappears down the steps.

I’m left staring at the city again.

My hands shake.

Not with fear.

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