Page 124 of Madness & Mercy
“What are you saying?”
He leans in, whispers like a secret.
“Ask your littlepetwho he—”
BANG.
The gunshot is deafening.
Braga’s head snaps back, a perfect bullet hole through his forehead. He slumps, lifeless, blood leaking across the dock like spilled ink.
I turn slowly.
Julian’s holding the pistol, arm steady, face pale. His eyes are locked on the body.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I had to. Bastard had it coming.”
I stare down at Braga, then back at Julian. He won’t meet my eyes now.
And I know, without a doubt, what Braga was going to tell me.
But I don’t say anything.
Not yet.
I just holster my weapon… and walk away.
CHAPTER 18 – CONFESSION
JULIAN
Fuck…
Braga. That piece of shit. I should’veknownbetter than to trust him, even for a second. He ratted me out to Nico, or at least, he tried to. Gotrealbrave for someone with a knife in his leg and a gun in his face.
Tied me straight to Silvio. Practically gift-wrapped the truth and handed it over like a last little “fuck you” on his way out. If I hadn’t pulled the trigger when I did… Nico would know everything.
Maybe he already does.
I wassureI’d be dead by now. Floating facedown in the bay. Bullet in the back of my skull. But Nico just… walked away. Didn’t say a word. No rage, no accusations, no final blow. Just turned his back on the blood and the body, and on me.
That silence scares the hell out of me more than if he’d shot me.
I never should’ve met Silvio Romano. Or Paulo Braga. Or Nico fucking Vitale. Everything’s a mess. I’m a mess. The only thing I can do now is run. Get out. Get back to Silvio and pray tosomethingthat he doesn’t kill me for screwing up the job.
This is it. My only out.
I bolt, full sprint, away from the dock, away from the shadows and blood and cold silence. No plan. Just instinct. My boots slam the pavement. My lungs burn. My ribs scream. But I don’t stop. I can’t stop.
A sharp sting hits the back of my neck.
A warmth spreads through my body. My legs start to give.
And then… complete darkness.
Buzzing is the first thing I hear.
Low and steady, like a wasp trapped in my skull. My body’s cold and sore. My mouth tastes like blood and dirt.
