Page 24 of Control

Livia doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she pulls the car into a parking spot in front of the building. “Let’s get inside before you freeze to death.” She gives me a half-smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes—like she’s trying to make sure I don’t fall apart on her.

I nod and step off the sidewalk. Then, I open the car door and slide into the passenger seat.

We drive in silence for a while, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional swipe of the wipers across the windshield as the rain starts coming down.

. My mind drifts back to the man. He wasn’t one of Remo’s men. I would’ve recognized him. But that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. And something about his eyes…it was like he knew exactly who I was.

But I don’t tell Livia any of this. I don’t want her to think I’m paranoid.

I decide to distract myself with other pressing things. “You’ve known Remo for some time now, right? Does he trust anyone? Or is paranoia just his default setting?”

She considers this, her expression turning thoughtful. “Trust isn’t exactly his strong suit. But he’s not completely heartless. He’s…complicated.”

“Complicated?” I scoff. “That’s an understatement.”

Livia snorts. “Tell me about it. He’s been brooding more than usual lately. Which is saying something, considering ‘brooding’ is basically his resting state.”

I hesitate, the urge to pry tugging away at me. “Why do you think that is?”

She narrows her eyes at me like she’s trying to decide how much to say. “I don’t know. And trust me, I’ve been around him long enough to notice when something’s off. This—whatever’s going on with him—is different. He’s quieter. More…I don’t know. Intense.”

“That’s reassuring,” I mutter..

Livia leans closer, lowering her voice. “Look, I’ve seen him take down entire operations without breaking a sweat. He doesn’t let people in, not easily. If he’s acting weird, it’s probably because of you.”

I blink, caught off guard. “Me?”

She shrugs. “You’re not exactly easy to ignore. Stubborn, defiant, and mouthy…you’ve got a knack for getting under his skin. Not many people do.”

I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t. Instead, I focus on the blur of shops and buildings as we drive past, trying to let her words roll off me.

“Anyway,” she says, sitting up straighter, “look at it this way. You’ve had a taste of freedom for a whole day. That’s more than Remo would usually allow. I’d rather not deal with his bad mood if you’re late.”

I roll my eyes, muttering under my breath, “As if that’s my fault.” I take my eyes off the road and glance at her. “How did you end up working for him?”

Her lips twitch like she’s debating whether to give me the real answer. “Let’s just say he found me at the right time. I was good at getting into places I wasn’t supposed to, and he needed someone with my…skill set.”

“And you trust him?”

Livia’s grip tightens on the wheel for a split second, her expression unreadable before she answers, “Trust might be a stretch. But loyalty? Yeah, I can do loyalty.”

Her answer doesn’t surprise me, but it doesn’t ease the knot in my stomach either.

We pull up in front of the sleek building that looms over the street as though it owns it, the penthouse where Remo’s world spins around its own rules. The city lights reflect off the polished windows, and the weight of the evening sky settles heavily in the air.

Livia slows to a stop before putting the car into park. She looks at me for a beat before nodding toward the entrance. “Home sweet home, Dans. Buckle up.”

I don’t reply. As I slide out of the car and head toward the building, her words echo in my mind. Loyalty, not trust. In Remo’s world, maybe that’s all anyone can afford to give.

Chapter 9

Remo

I can’t believe this is my life now.

I’m sitting in my car like some second-rate stalker, parked a few streets away from the café. The leather seats hug me like they know I’m losing my grip. My car’s tinted windows keep me hidden, not that it helps. I still feel like a fucking idiot.

The car is too quiet, almost suffocating, and I try to convince myself that this is fine. Normal, even.