Page 147 of The Hunter's Empire

"Good." I murmur, my gaze drifting back toward the ocean. "I would've been disappointed if we'd failed."

A quiet hum comes through the line, making it clear he doesn't believe me. The silence that follows is comfortable, but it doesn't last.

"And Zora?" Her name hangs between us with far more weight than I care to acknowledge.

My eyes drift back to the endless ocean as Stefano continues, "How is your plan progressing?"

I let out a slow breath. "It's... complicated."

"I suspected as much. Have you changed your mind about killing her?"

My fingers tighten around the phone. "No."

The answer comes easily. The one that follows doesn't.

"But… it's complicated."

Stefano says nothing. He never wastes words when silence can tell him everything he needs to know.

I've known him long enough to recognize that he listens differently from everyone else. Most people pay attention to what is said. Stefano has always paid closer attention to what is deliberately left unsaid.

When he finally speaks, his voice is as calm as ever. "I've never heard you describe a mission as complicated."

My gaze remains fixed on the horizon. "Marcus Krogen still murdered my father." I say quietly. "Nothing about that has changed."

"No." Stefano agrees. "It hasn't. But revenge has a way of changing the people who carry it."

The words settle heavily between us.

"I've watched men devote their lives to a single purpose." He continues. "Some reach the end only to discover they no longer recognize themselves. Others convince themselves nothing has changed, even after something else begins demanding their attention."

I close my eyes before inhaling deep. "That isn't what's happening."

"Isn't it?" His question isn't confrontational. It's almost gentle.

"You've spent weeks beside Marcus's daughter, and for the first time since I've known you, you're questioning a mission instead of executing it."

"I haven't questioned it."

"Haven't you?"

The corner of my jaw tightens.

"You called to ask about Roisin. You told me Zora is complicated. Neither of those things sounds like the Domenico I've known all these years."

I don't answer. Because I don't know if he's wrong.

Stefano sighs softly. "I know the difference between conviction and repetition, Domenico."

The words land harder than they should.

"If Zora were Marcus's son instead of his daughter... would we still be having this conversation?"

The answer should come without hesitation. Instead, my mind betrays me, pulling me back to the island, the cave, the way she refused to break no matter what was thrown at her, the quiet intimacy we shared in her room, the sound of her laughter, and the warmth of her hand slipping into mine beneath the table.

I close my eyes, willing the memories away. None of them should matter. Yet somehow, despite everything I've told myself, they do.

"I know what I'm doing." I say at last.