Page 94 of Of Lies and Shadows

He nods, but doesn’t stop me. Doesn’t plead. Just watches, like he’s memorizing the way I walk away.

And for once, I don’t rush. Even though I can’t give him what he wants, I owe him the dignity of not pretending I don’t want to. Not pretending it didn’t mean something.

I close the door behind me, my heart a thunderous ache in my chest.

If only belief were enough because right now, I wish I could.

Chapter Twenty

Dante

Idon’t know what to believe anymore.

But if I want even a sliver of Francesca’s trust, enough for her to start seeing past the monster I was, I have to give Bruno’s theory real consideration. No matter how much I want it to be wrong.

Because if it’s right… then the betrayal runs deeper than I imagined. And that means no one is above suspicion. Not even Vito… especially not Vito.

That’s the part that hits the hardest. We’ve been friends for years. He’s been my righthand, my second-in-command. The man who’s taken bullets for me and delivered bodies without question. But neither Paolo nor Marco moved on the weapon shipments we fed them. Not a whisper. Not a bite. And the only one who knew the details aside from me… was Vito.

I step out of my office, leaning casually against the doorframe. He’s standing a few feet away, barking orders to the men about collections at the gambling houses. He doesn’t look nervous. Doesn’t look guilty. He looks like Vito—steady, composed, efficient.

But there are things I know about him. Things he doesn’t talk about.

Like the fact that he prefers men, though he’s never said it out loud. I don’t care. That’s not the problem. The problem is secrets. And secrets are a cancer in this life.

And now I have to figure out if the man I’ve trusted with everything… has been feeding my enemies.

Vito glances over, his brow arched. “Problem?”

I shake my head.Not yet.

His eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t press.

“I need to take care of something,” I say, already turning away. “Can you handle things?”

Vito snorts. “When haven’t I?”

“I don’t know.” My voice is too flat, too quiet.

He pauses mid-sentence. “You sure you’re?—”

“I’m already late,” I cut in. “I’ll see you later.”

I don’t wait for his response. I’m halfway down the hall before he can say another word because if I stay a second longer, I might say something I can’t take back.

Not yet. First, I need to be sure.

I drive straight to the guest house.

I’m not even sure what I’m going to say until I’m standing at the door, fist hovering midair, and knocking hard enough to start a war.

It opens before the third knock.

Bruno stands there shirtless, a towel slung over his shoulder, clearly having just finished a workout. He doesn’t look surprised. Just annoyed.

“We need to talk.”

He doesn’t move aside. Just crosses his arms. “About?”

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