Page 60 of No Greater Oblivion

He stares at me awaiting an answer but I have nothing to say to him. I’ve heard every word out of his mouth but give less than a damn about what he has to say. My path has already been set and I’m going to burn through everything like a fury-born blaze.

“Are you even listening to me?” He gives me a single, furious, almost desperate shake. “You’re making a mis⁠—”

In a single movement, I unholster my gun and flip the safety. With the barrel pressed into the soft flesh beneath his jaw, I say, “Would it be a mistake if I squeezed the trigger? Or would I be saving myself a future headache?”

Dimitrio doesn’t flinch but I don’t miss the flicker of emotion in his eyes as his shoulders deflate. Defeat? Disappointment?

I’m trying to find it in me to care.

I tilt my head. “Move.”

He drops his hand from the door and steps away.

Part of me regrets not pulling the trigger but I’d have a hard time explaining to Abuelo why he’s down one secret grandson when Christmas rolls around.

Dahlia hasn’t spoken to me in ages and I prefer it.

Her silence saves my conscience the burden of having to lie to her.

On her first day at BIS, Lettie brought out Dad’s old polaroid camera and took a picture for the family scrapbook. Mom took a photo of us on the first and last day of school every year growing up, including graduations. Dahlia was excited to be brought in on another family tradition and posed at the foot of the stairs in the main foyer, grinning like a gap toothed third grader on picture day. It was then when I leaned in to kiss her and ask if she wanted me to drive her to school instead, did I realize just how serious her silent treatment was.

Lettie and Diego rode to BIS in the backseat of her Subaru while Pedro drove and I was the idiot who stayed behind, missing out on an important milestone I should’ve otherwise been front and center for.

That was two weeks ago and she hasn’t uttered a single word in my direction since. She doesn’t even insist on changing the bandages on my hands anymore, which is torture. Not because I give a damn about the injury but because deep down, I cherished those quiet moments between us and now they’re gone too.

I tell myself I don’t care. This way, I’m saved the torture of having to come up with inane excuses which only serve to further insult her intelligence and hurt her feelings.

Thanks to Beni, the staged shoot out at El Rey went off without a hitch. For the last week, rumors of my incompetence have spread like wildfire and Ferrer has a meeting this evening with Sandro to discuss a possible alliance between them. Meanwhile, Diego’s on a plane escorting Coppola back to Trieste where the dust has finally settled and his family eagerly awaits his return.

Everything’s fallen together so perfectly I can’t help but conjure up ways in which it can go wrong and then work through all those possibilities to find alternative solutions. I pace the length of my office for hours, lost deep in thought, planning and strategizing for every worst possible outcome and carving out an escape route. It’s creating a mental heist in my head where the obstacle is my own mind and not a manmade maze. Regina’s always been good at puzzles, but I’ve made adjustments for her too.

She won’t trust Ferrer at first, which is why I chose him with her weaknesses in mind. Regina has a soft spot for children, especially motherless ones. Ferrer’s background will move her toward empathy and it’ll bring her guard down. Perfect for when in a month from now a few of her old Russian adversaries will try to put a hit on her and Ferrer conveniently saves the day. At which point he’ll not only have her compassion but her trust as well. And a few weeks after that, I’ll seal the deal by staging an SVA raid on one of Sandro’s shipments which Ferrer will save by warning him in time.

What I have planned for Sandro is a slow and crippling descent from heaven. One that’ll steal his peace, his sanity, and trigger the collapse of the world around him. Killing him would’ve been too easy and reacting in the heat of the moment would’ve done nothing except put me at a disadvantage in the long run. The fire at El Aliciente was meant to provoke a fight or flight response in me, playing on my weaknesses and the volatile temper he knows rests dormant under an otherwise quiet exterior. Dad was the same way.

My phone rings and I reach for it. The second I answer, Ferrer says, “It’s done.”

I can’t help but smile. Sandro, you stupid son of a bitch.

He never could pass up the opportunity to stick a thorn in my side. Which is how I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of snatching my supposed righthand man out from under me.

“Good. Get rid of your phone.”

“I know what to do.”

The call ends and I finish the last of my drink before leaving my office for the night. I can’t remember the last time I went to bed at a decent time and if I leave now, I might be able to catch Dahlia before she falls asleep. If she wants to continue with her silent treatment then by all means, but it won’t stop me from trying to strangle a word out of her in any way I can.

On my way upstairs I notice Lettie’s bedroom door is slightly ajar. I go to close it, assuming she meant to do so herself, but she catches sight of me.

“Oh perfect! Come in, I want you to try these on.”

I step inside. “What are you doing up this late?”

“I started cleaning out my closet…four hours ago.” She makes a face. “Been neck deep in boxes and garment bags ever since.”

Lettie almost had her own apartment on the other end of the house but she’s been in the third-floor suite ever since we moved in. She says it’s because she hates having to wait for Doña Ana to bring her breakfast in the morning, as the main kitchen is two floors down, but in reality, I think she knew she’d be lonely. Diego’s private quarters are just down the hall from the apartment’s main entrance, which suits him best. He likes his privacy but he’s still close enough to spend most of his time on our side of the house anyway. As time passes, I’m sure Dahlia will do more restructuring, especially as she continues her renovations outside of what we’ve initially sectioned off, but for now everyone is close and comfortable.

Lettie especially. I think her room is bigger than mine.