“Because I need you to understand what is at stake.”His voice is calm.“Alessandro is coming for both of us.You because you walked away.Me because I took what he thinks is his.And when he makes his move, it is going to be brutal.It is going to be bloody.And it is going to drag everyone into a war no one is ready for.”
“So you want my help.”
“I want you to stay the fuck out of the way, Matteo, or I will kill you,” Lorenzo says, sounding less like a request and more like a command.“Fake your fucking death if you have to.I want you to let me handle Alessandro.No matter what he does.No matter what you hear.And in exchange, I keep your location quiet.I make sure no one else comes looking.”
Leverage.
That’s what this is.
A trade.
A bargain.
The kind of deal men make when each has something the other needs and neither trusts the other enough to give it freely.
Lorenzo has the information I need.He knows my father’s movements.The information I have been struggling to find on my own without leaving breadcrumbs that lead back to this town and to the life Emery and I are trying to build.
“How will you make sure no one finds us?”I ask, because promises are cheap and information is even cheaper.I need more than his word.
“I have my sources.”Lorenzo straightens slightly, still aware of the gun in my hand.
“Turn around,” I say, needing to see his face to know whether he’s playing me or if this is real.
“What?”
“Turn around.Slowly.Keep your fucking hands where I can see them.”
Lorenzo hesitates for a second.I know he’s weighing his options, deciding if I am about to shoot or trust him.
His hands rise to shoulder height, palms open, and he turns around to face me.
“What fucking sources are you referring to?”I ask.
“I am now married to the Serrano family.Arturo’s daughter.That gives me access.”
Arturo Serrano.A slimy fucker, if there ever was one.The kind of man who smiles as he slides a knife between your ribs.Who shakes your hand and tallies your weaknesses.Who treats loyalty like a commodity to be bought and sold to the highest bidder.
“Arturo is a slimy fucker,” I say.“Watch your back and keep an eye on him.He could have sent her to gather information, get close to you, and figure out what you know and what you’re planning.”
“He already has.”Lorenzo’s voice is calm.“Arturo is already pressuring her to report back to him.”
“And?”I press.“What did she tell him?”
“She told me what her father asked and what he wanted.”Lorenzo meets my eyes and holds them there to see the certainty.“She is loyal.”He states it like a fact, as if she has proven it to him.
I lower the gun.Not all the way but just enough to show I’m listening.That I am willing to consider what he is offering, even if I don’t trust it yet.
“You’re betting your life on that,” I say.“On her.On the belief that she will not turn on you when it matters most.”
“I am betting my life on it, yes.”Lorenzo’s voice drops.“If I am wrong, Matteo, then we are both fucked.”
“Why not just kill me?”I ask.“It would be easier.One bullet, and your problem would disappear.No more questions about succession.Just you, the empire, and no one left to challenge your claim.”
Lorenzo falls silent for a moment.His eyes flick to the gun in my hand, then back to my face, reading me as I’m reading him.Just like I taught him.
“It would be easier,” he finally admits.“And that is what I came here to do.”
The words land cold.Honest.
