I move through my office now, pacing, my palm still tingling from the imprint of her hand that I shook harder than I needed to.
Maybe I wanted her to feel the weight of the world she just stepped into.
Maybe I needed her to know she wouldn’t be in control of this going forward. Even though the truth is that she took control of me the second she walked through my door.
I slam my fist onto the desk, hating the weakness of that thought.
A woman who despises me, a woman who looks at me like I’m the one who lit the match that took her father’s life, stormed her way up my staircase to demand answers.
I should want her gone, out of my sight and out of my world.
Instead, I find myself thinking of her raw, shaking voice as she said she’d kill the men responsible herself.
And goddammit, I believe her.
I’ve underestimated people before, but never twice.
Constance Monroe is unlike anyone I’ve ever met.
And whether I like it or not, she’s now tied to me through a vow of vengeance. She has no idea how dangerous this will be.But it’s too late to try and convince her to leave the retribution to me.
She’s in this now, and there’s no fucking way I’m letting anything happen to her.
Whether she hates me, or especially because she hates me, I won’t fail her like I failed to protect her father.
3
“When things fall apart, we have to rebuild one brick at a time, even if our hands are shaking.”
—ROBERT MONROE
Constance
I should have walked awaythe second he said the word “stay.”
But grief makes people reckless. Or maybe just me.
The truth is, I don’t have anywhere else to go. Not really.
There’s nothing left of my old life, the one I was carefully building. It’s been splintered into a thousand sharp pieces that I don’t have the strength to pick up alone.
My father never should’ve accepted the deal with Maximo. I told him I could take out loans for school or go to a cheaper community college. But he told me that Maximocould help him give me the future I deserved, and it was either Maximo’s offer or go into debt, so I stopped arguing with him. I wish I hadn’t caved so easily; then maybe he would still be alive. Debt is better than an early death any day.
Now here I am, following Maximo Luciani’s cousin Enzo deeper into his fortress. The corridors are too quiet, the walls too thick, everything designed to remind me I’m no longer in my world. Yet, the farther I go, the more I hate how normal it starts to feel.
Enzo leads me down a hallway, opens a door, and says, “This is one of Maximo’s finest guestrooms.”
I step inside the absurdly elegant space. It’s practically a luxury hotel suite, all polished wood and curated elegance.
“What an absolute shithole,” I mutter sarcastically.
Enzo huffs a laugh. “I’ll be outside if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, since I have no beef with him. As far as I know, he wasn’t personally responsible for keeping my father safe from Maximo’s enemies.
“One more thing,” Enzo adds before leaving. “Maximo took your father’s death harder than you think. Harder than he’d ever admit. He doesn’t need you adding weight to a load he already carries on his own.”
Finally, he walks out, closing the door behind him with his words still hanging in the air.
