Page 75 of Of Lies and Shadows

“Paolo and Marco,” I say. “They stayed away all night. Too far, too quiet. Ignored the Vescari like it was their holy mission.”

He frowns. “That’s not like them.”

“Exactly. No one stays that far from the drama unless they’ve got something to hide.”

He crosses his arms, thoughtful. “So what’s the plan?”

“We use the faulty guns,” I say. “We prep two shipments, two fake destinations. One goes to Paolo. The other to Marco. Tell them it’s sensitive, ‘internal only.’ Let’s see which one gets raided.”

Vito’s smile is slow and sharp. “You want to smoke out the mole.”

“No,” I say, fingers steepling under my chin. “I want to catch him in the act. No more guessing. I want the truth—and after that? Blood.”

He nods, already pulling out his phone. “I’ll set it up. You’ll get your answer.”

“Good,” I say. “And Vito—quietly. No one breathes a word.”

“You got it, boss.” He stands and stretches, rolling out his neck. “You sticking around?”

“Not for long.” I push back my chair. “I’m heading home early.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Since when?”

Since I watched the woman I married whisper love to children who aren’t hers. Since I realized I want her to see I’m not always the monster I was that night.

“The twins just finished their first week of school,” I say instead. “I thought I’d take them out for a celebratory dinner.”

“Is that right?”

I don’t like the curve of the smirk forming at the corner of his mouth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Nothing. I know you love your kids, but you’ve never exactly been Mr. Hearth and Home. Just makes me wonder if by ‘celebratory dinner’ you mean you want to go home and fuck the wife.”

My jaw tightens.

“And I wouldn’t blame you,” he adds with a grin. “The woman’s lush.”

A wave of revulsion rolls through me, sharp and unexpected.

Not just because of how flippantly he says it, but because he’s talking abouther. And because I did fuck her, and despite the context, despite the violence of it, a part of me still wants to do it again. Wants her again.

But not like that. Not like that night.

And I hate that I let it happen. That it happened at all.

I also hate the implication I’ve been a bad father. I know he doesn’t mean it like that, not really. It’s how we were raised. Fathers weren’t gentle, just present. But I see the difference now. I feel the difference when Francesca looks at my children like they’re made of stardust, not just bloodand legacy.

I level Vito with a flat look. “Watch your mouth.”

He chuckles, but it dies quickly. “Yeah. Right. Sorry.”

I sigh, leaning back in my chair, the leather creaking beneath me. “It’s complicated.”

“Love always is.” He shrugs, too casual for someone poking a hornet’s nest.

I scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. It has nothing to do with love.”

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