Page 5 of Veil of Secrets

“And you think I care because…?”

“Because you understand power,” he says simply. “And what happens when the wrong people have it.”

I stare at him for a beat. He’s not selling this with charm. He’s not buttering me up. It’s almost worse—because he believes what he’s saying.

“You think being kicked around makes me qualified for your mafia rehab project?” I ask. “Pass.”

His brow lifts slightly. Not dramatic. Just enough to show he’s registering that answer and filing it away.

“I think surviving men like Lucetti,” he says, “means you already understand more than most.”

My stomach knots. I push off the wall.

“Don’t say his name.”

He doesn’t back down. He just tilts his head slightly.

“Everyone’s already saying it,” he says. “They just don’t say it around you.”

My eyes narrow. “Is this your plan? Dig up my past so I owe you my future?”

“No,” he says. “I’m offering you a choice.”

I snort. “Sure. And what does that choice look like? Me in a cage again, just a bigger one with better pay?”

“No cage,” he says. “No leash. Just a seat at the table.”

“I don’t need a table. I need to not get stabbed walking home.”

“I can give you that.”

“And what do you want in return?”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Loyalty.”

I let that sit between us. Loyalty. It’s a word people throw around like confetti. Like it doesn’t come with chains.

“I’m not loyal,” I say. “Not anymore. That gets you dead.”

“Not with me.”

I shake my head. “You don’t know me.”

“I know you’ve kept yourself breathing without backup. That tells me everything.”

“You know what it tells me?” I say, stepping closer now, eyes locked on his. “That I’m done being used. I dance to keep my lights on. I fight to keep men like you from thinking I’m weak. I don’t want your war.”

His voice drops.

“This isn’t a war. Not yet.”

“And when it is?”

He meets my stare evenly.

“Then I hope you're on my side.”

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