Prologue
Lorenzo
The roar of the blast still echoed in my ears.
Flashes of fire, shattered glass, the metallic tang of blood—those jagged pieces of memory bobbed up in the dark like debris in a storm. I clawed for the edge of consciousness, but it slipped away, same as a drowning man flailing for the surface.
My body felt weightless, suspended in some endless nothing.
The pain was off somewhere distant, locked behind a wall.
Only the dull crush in my chest let me know I was still kicking.
The wreck of my car had to be smoldering back on that street, belching black smoke into the night sky.
But right now, all I could sense was the chill bite of starched sheets and that sharp sting of hospital bleach.
The ventilator wheezed in a steady rhythm, pumping air into my lungs.
"...Should've blown the bastard to kingdom come."
The voice drifted in from far off, muffled like it was coming through a wall of water. I tried to pry my eyes open, but my lids weighed a ton, leaden and useless.
"Shut your trap. This place ain't secure." The reply hit low and familiar, the kind of chill that crawled right into your bones.
"What's there to worry about? Guy can't even crack an eyelid. Doc said the anesthetics they pumped into him will keep him out cold till tomorrow."
The scrape of shoe leather on linoleum got closer.
"How bad's he hurt?"
"Too damn bad." Regret dripped from the first voice, thick as tar. "Blast wasn't big enough. Tough son of a bitch—got tossed clear of the car. Just some cuts and bruises, maybe a concussion. Give it a few days, he'll be up and at 'em."
A beat of dead air hung between them.
"What about Mateo?"
"What else? They took the cash, so they'll toe the line. It's the Cavallellis, end of story. Man's got more enemies than a rat in a trap. Nobody's gonna blink twice."
The heart monitor beeped on, steady as a metronome.
I wanted to yell, to thrash, to wrap my hands around anything sharp enough to gut them. But my body was a dead weight, trapped in its own goddamn cage. All I could do was lie there, ears burning, soaking in every word as they plotted my grave.
"Can't fuck this up again."
"I know. But pulling the trigger now? Too hot. Let the heat die down, then we circle back... This time, we make it stick. No loose ends."
Footsteps faded out. The door clicked shut, soft as a whisper.
The dark rolled back over me, pulling me under.