Page 71 of Veil of Secrets

“Done,” I say.

My voice is calm. Solid.

His head tilts just slightly.

“Not yet,” he replies.

I believe him.

My fingers close around his arm.

His blade lowers, but he doesn’t sheath it.

I can still smell blood. My own adrenaline makes the sweat burn behind my knees.

I look at the man on the floor.

He looks small now. Weak.

He died thinking he could cut me down.

He died not understanding I’ve already bled more than he ever will.

The crowd is thinning now. A few linger by the doors, stunned or stupid. Some are frozen—caught between fear and fascination.

One guy at the back yells something about police.

No one listens.

I glance at Nico. “We need to move.”

He nods. “Stairwell. Now.”

We cut through the side hallway, behind the bar. The bartender ducks when she sees us coming. I grab my robe on the way, draping it over my shoulders without tying it.

My hand stays wrapped around Nico’s forearm.

Not for safety.

For anchor.

We reach the stairwell just as the music dies entirely.

Only static now.

From above, I hear someone shout orders—probably Vito or someone else trying to restore order.

Too late.

The stage is already claimed.

I stop at the first landing. Breathe hard once. Then look up at him.

“That stage used to be a cage.”

He looks at me. Listens.

“Now it’s mine,” I say. “And you saw it. You helped make it real.”

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