Page 31 of Control

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The estate is surrounded by tall gates, and the security is tight—too tight—but that’s nothing new for this line of work. As we pull up, the reception hall stretches out before us, dripping with opulence. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling like ornate, glowing traps, casting shadows across the space.

I scan the room as we walk in. The laughter in the air feels too far away, almost like it doesn’t even touch me. Everyone’s onhigh alert, watching, waiting. But not me. I’m here for a reason, and it has nothing to do with making small talk.

I take the lead. In a tight suit and with a sharp British accent, it’s the perfect disguise. No one knows who we are, and that’s how I like it.

Livia’s right behind me with her tablet open and plugged into the network.

“Everything’s in place,” she whispers, more to herself than anyone. “We’ve got eyes on Angelo. It’s time.”

“You seem more tense than usual tonight, Boss.” Marco’s eyes flick to me before they quickly shift back to scanning the room. “Something bothering you?”

I don’t answer right away. I let my eyes sweep across the reception hall, feigning casual observation, but it’s all a ruse. I know exactly what Marco’s doing, probing and trying to get inside my head. He’s trying to dig. About her. He’s a smart guy, but he doesn’t know shit about this.

Maybe, just maybe, I’ve let some cracks show. But it doesn’t mean he gets to ask.

I keep walking, ignoring his question, but Marco’s never one to let go easily. Not when he senses weakness.

“You are tense,” he presses again. “She’s got you rattled? You’ve been acting different lately. Why haven’t we killed her yet? It’s been months already, keeping her alive and dragging this out with her around—”

Something inside me snaps—a fuse lighting a fire I can’t ignore. The nerve.

I slow my steps and pivot to face him. My jaw clenches so hard that it hurts, my teeth grinding together as I force the words out between them.

“Marco,” I growl, the threat in my voice low. “If you want to keep breathing, you better mind your own fucking business.”

His eyes harden like stone, but he doesn’t flinch. The bastard knows better. He’s loyal, but loyalty isn’t a free pass to ask questions that shouldn’t be asked.

I take a step closer, leaning in just enough so he can feel the heat of my breath against his ear. “You wanna get us both killed by running your mouth? You think I give a shit about anything other than this job? Focus on the mission. Or you’ll end up on the other side of my knife.”

Marco doesn’t speak. His lips tighten, and I see it in his eyes. He’s processing, backing off. Good. He knows when to stop. And tonight? I’m not in the mood for games. Not now. Not ever.

We continue moving through the crowd and looking for the one that matters. Angelo’s somewhere in here, and I’m not leaving without him.

Livia’s movements draw my attention, the subtle shifts as she blends into the background, her eyes darting around, never fully settling. She’s good, too good. But something’s off. I just don’t have time to figure out what it is right now.

I spot Angelo across the room, flanked by his bodyguards. The bastard’s still playing king, thinking he’s untouchable. I feel the anger coil in my gut, but I keep it in check. Focus. Patience.

I turn to Marco. “Take the exits. I want them covered. Livia, you’re with me. We move when I say so.”

They nod, and I don’t wait to see if they follow.

And then it happens.

“Livia?” The voice rings out across the room, loud enough for a few people to glance in our direction. “Livia Moretti? Is that really you?” The man’s eyes lock with hers. He’s standing by the bar with a few others surrounding him, but the second their eyes meet, I see it—the flicker of recognition on his face.

Livia’s entire body stiffens like she’s been hit with a jolt of electricity. For a moment, I think she might run, but she doesn’t. She freezes, pale as a ghost.

She forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, her voice unsteady.

She tries to look past him and pretend like he’s not there. But he’s not having it.

“You don’t recognize me?” His grin stretches wide, mocking. “Guess I wasn’t good enough for a second date, huh? Well, it was to be expected after you fucked your ex’s best friend.”

The crowd laughs. It’s harmless, in theory. But for Livia? It’s anything but.

I step forward. My jaw is locked tight, my temper ready to boil over. “Hey,” I snap, my voice cutting through. “What did you say?”

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