Page 73 of Veil of Blood

“Falcone!”

My body reacts before my mind catches.

The lug wrench sits in the trunk, tucked under the spare tire. I wrench it free and pivot as the guard charges.

I swing the heavy iron across his jaw. The crack echoes—teeth shatter. He staggers, dazed, pistol dropping from his hand.

Rocco is at my side in an instant, Glock leveled on the second thug slipping around the corner. I don’t hesitate. I bring the wrench down onto the first guard’s temple. Bone—and his life—splinter under the blow. He crumples to the wet pavement, blood pooling beneath his head.

Rocco squeezes off one shot. The second thug jerks in the shoulder, chest collapsing. He drops the shotgun with a clatter.

I’m breathing hard, grip tightening on the blood-slicked wrench. Rocco’s eyes are on me—steady, unflinching.

After a moment, I exhale. “Fuck.”

“Run?” he says, voice low.

I nod once. “Go.”

I yank the door open and drop into the seat. The engine’s smooth. The car shifts into gear like it knows what I need.

Rocco steps up beside me, hand on the door frame. He bends just enough for our eyes to meet.

His face is calm. A little blood on his shirt. But steady. Always steady.

He doesn’t give me a speech. Doesn’t ask me to stay.

“Chiara,” he says.

My name. One word. Final. Grounded.

“Rocco.”

I lean forward. Grip his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles.

Then I close the door.

I don’t look back until I’m halfway down the alley. When I do, it’s in the rearview mirror.

He’s still standing there, hands in his pockets. Watching.

But not chasing.

I drive.

Through the edges of the city, past the kind of places that still bear scars from men like Ferrano. Past the exit where I almost turned back last time. I don’t hesitate this time.

The road opens in front of me.

It’s not clean. It’s not easy.

But it’s mine.

Chapter 26 – Rocco

I push open the garage door before dawn has full claim on the sky. It lifts on cracked rollers, echoing off concrete walls, and I step inside. A single bulb overhead sputters as I flip the switch. It spots the oil-stained floor in a circle that barely reaches my boots. Everything else stays half-hidden in shadows.

Behind me, the door thunks closed. I pause to catch the click of the lock. Safe. That one word hangs in my chest. It’s the only thing I can say aloud this morning.

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