The whole room goes deadly silent. I can practically hear everyone blink.
The urge to yell that it’s not July sits on my tongue, but I nip it. He’s been going downhill for months now, stuck in one of hisepisodes. I don’t have time to deal with his shit.
“Merry Christmas, Mindfuck,” Reaper mutters, coming out of the walk-in closet, and tossing a pair of black sweats at my face. “Tag’s still on. Cover your shame.”
I growl, but I pull them on.
“Can we get back to the problem at hand?” Santiago mutters, scanning the room like he doesn’t know what to make of any of this. Then he points at Sombra. “Finish him. Now. Here. Just like we agreed.”
Fuck.
I turn toward the fucker. He’s glaring at Santiago, muttering curses under his breath. I’d love nothing more than to keep himfor days. Weeks. Break him slowly. Play with him like a cat does with its prey when its belly is already full.
But the deal was clear. He dies here — fast — and Santiago gets to watch.
I draw in a sharp breath, trying to come to terms with the way this needs to end.
“Fantasma,” Santiago says quietly, his tone laced with frustration. “You gave your word. I need to see him die.”
My grip tightens around the gun. My jaw locks. My nostrils flare.
It has to be done this way, but fuck, I don’t want to.
Bones’ hand lands on my shoulder as he leans in close, his voice dropping so low only I can hear it.
“Luca caught the woman trying to escape through the back gardens,” he murmurs. “You have that.”
Something inside me settles.
I can’t make Sombra suffer the way I want, but this isn’t over. Not even close. And out of all of them, that woman and Bowie are the ones Ineedto hear scream. For Adora. For every stolen year of her life.
I raise the gun and aim it at Sombra’s head. Arcangelo pushes out of his chair fast, muttering about his expensive suit and blood spatter.
Sombra’s gaze snaps back to me, full of hate and venom.
“Adoración will never forgive you when she finds out,” he sneers. “Do you even know who I am to her?”
“I know exactly who you are,” I murmur, the familiar numbness sliding into place. “The dots weren’t hard to connect once I knew where to look.”
I step closer. Lower my voice.
“And I already told you — her name’s Adora.”
The bullet lodges in his forehead before the sound of the gunshot even registers.
I stand over his body, waiting for peace, but it doesn’t come, and I know why. Because this isn’t over yet.
“The Cleaner and her team are on their way,” Arcangelo says behind me. “The bodies won’t be a problem, but judging by the photos I sent her, she’ll need to burn the house down.” A beat. “Good thing it’s isolated.”
When I turn, I find him watching Santiago with a calculating look.
“I’m guessing you’re taking over the Verdugos now.”
Santiago gives him a cautious nod.
“Good,” Arcangelo continues. “Take them over, and then take them the fuck out of here. Tolden City and its entire metro area — Willow Harbor and Driftwood included — are exclusively Romano and Vulture territory now.”
“You have a week. Any Verdugo we find in the area after that gets taken down.”
