Chapter 7

Two nights. That was all Ricardo had given him. Two nights to put Lorenzo's blood on his hands, or drown in it himself.

Matteo sat alone in his apartment, the lights off, the blinds drawn. A single cigarette glowed between his fingers, the smoke curling in the air. The silence pressed heavy, broken only by the faint hum of a neighbor’s radio through the thin walls.

He had thought, at first, that sleep might make the uneasiness go away. But it hadn’t. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Lorenzo.

Lorenzo on the pier, his reckless grin even with a gun pointed at his head. He certainly was stupid to be joking around when something serious was going on. It was as if he was careless with his life.

Lorenzo’s voice snapping, “Get off me, I don’t need saving.”

Lorenzo’s eyes, bright, wild but alive, locking with his when the bullet missed by inches.

Mateo ground the cigarette into the ashtray, his jaw tight.

He shouldn’t be thinking about him. Not like this. Not when that same man’s name was practically painted on the target Ricardo had placed in front of him.

The sound of his burner phone buzzing cut through the quiet. He picked it up. One word flashed on the screen: Alvarez.

He was Ricardo’s watcher.

Mateo answered. “Sí.”

“Ricardo wants word,” Alvarez said, his voice rough. “Have you chosen your target?”

Mateo swallowed, forcing calm into his tone. “I will choose when the gathering comes.”

“You don’t have time to hesitate,” Alvarez warned. “You know how he is. If you don’t deliver, you’re finished.”

The line went dead before Mateo could answer.

He tossed the phone onto the table, pressing both hands into his hair. He was definitely finished. The word gnawed at him. Ricardo’s world didn’t forgive hesitation.

But how could he make the choice Ricardo wanted? How could he choose to hurt Lorenzo when he hadn’t done anything bad to him? It wasn’t just right.

The creak of a floorboard startled him. His hand shot to the knife on his belt. “Who’s there?”

A familiar voice answered from the shadows. Smooth, teasing and dangerous.

“You hide in the dark like a thief, Cruz.”

Lorenzo stepped into the room as though he owned it, the faint city light from the window catching the curve of his smirk. He wore his usual casual clothes, open shirt, his chain glinting at his throat, his eyes bright with mockery and something deeper.

Mateo’s stomach dropped. What the fuck was wrong with Lorenzo?

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mateo hissed, moving toward him. “How did you find this place?”

Lorenzo shrugged. “You saved my life twice now. You think I wouldn’t find you?” He glanced at the locked door, smirking. “You really should change your locks. Pathetic.”

“You’re insane,” Mateo muttered, grabbing his arm and shoving him back toward the door. “If anyone sees you here….”

“They won’t,” Lorenzo cut in. He leaned closer instead of pulling back. “Tell me something, Cruz. Why did you do it?”

Mateo froze.

Lorenzo’s voice sharpened. “On the pier. You could have let me die. Hell, you should have. But you didn’t. You saved me. Twice. So tell me, why?”

Mateo’s throat tightened. His instincts screamed to stay silent, but Lorenzo’s eyes bore into him, demanding.

Instead, he shoved Lorenzo back again. Harder. He needed space from him. “Because noise draws attention. Dead De Lucas draw war. That’s all.”

“Bullshit.” Lorenzo’s jaw clenched. “You didn’t stop to think. You didn’t weigh the cost. You moved.” He jabbed a finger against Mateo’s chest. “Instinct. So tell me the truth. Why me?”

Mateo caught his wrist in a brutal grip. “Because I didn’t want another war on my hands. Because I didn’t want a bloodbath in the street.”

“You’re lying.” Lorenzo’s tone was almost amused, but his eyes were deadly serious. “If it had been anyone else, you’d have let them bleed. But you didn’t. You pulled me down, Cruz. Me.”

Mateo shoved his hand away. “You think too highly of yourself.”

“You think too little of yourself,” Lorenzo shot back. “That’s the problem. You act like Ricardo owns your soul, but I’ve seen the way you move when the bullets fly. That wasn’t loyalty. That was something else.”

“Enough,” Mateo snapped, voice rough.

“Not enough,” Lorenzo pressed, stepping forward. “Not until you stop hiding behind excuses.”

Mateo glared at him. “Do you know what it cost me to pull you out of that pier alive? Every rumor, every thing we do, it’s already circling around. Ricardo doesn’t forgive weakness.”

Lorenzo tilted his head, smirk faint but steady. “So I’m weakness to you?”

“You are chaos,” Mateo said coldly, his eyes turning dark. He hated the fact that Lorenzo couldn’t just get that point than then meeting. “And chaos gets men killed.”

Lorenzo laughed under his breath. “Chaos keeps men alive too. You ever think about that?”

“Don’t twist my words.”

“Don’t twist yourself,” Lorenzo snapped back. “You wear loyalty like shackles. But the way you looked at me on that pier? That wasn’t a soldier’s duty.”

“Careful,” Mateo growled.

“I’m past careful.” Lorenzo stepped in close, his voice dropping. “You want to know what I think? I think you’re scared. Not of Ricardo. Not of me. Scared of yourself.”

For a moment, silence hung thick between them. Mateo could feel his anger flaring. But he needed to stay calm. Then Lorenzo chuckled low. “Funny. I thought chaos was the only reason you’re still breathing.”

Mateo’s temper flared. “You think this is a game? I have orders.”

“Orders to kill me?” Lorenzo asked, voice suddenly sharp, but his eyes searched Mateo’s face for cracks.

Mateo’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Lorenzo’s grin faded, his eyes narrowing. “Ricardo gave you a choice. A test and I’m the name on his list.”

Mateo said nothing. His silence spoke louder than any confession. He simply just stared, no words forming.

“You really are his puppet,” Lorenzo muttered. Then softer, leaning close: “But if you were just his puppet, you wouldn’t have dragged me out of hell. Twice.”

“Stop,” Mateo bit out.

“Make me,” Lorenzo hissed back.

Lorenzo stepped closer until their chests nearly touched. His voice dropped dangerously low. “Then kill me now.”

Mateo spun on him, his fury flaring. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” Lorenzo spread his arms wild and reckless. “Do it here. No one is watching. No rumors will be spread. You’ll prove your loyalty. Isn’t that what you need?”

“Stop,” Mateo growled.

“Then admit it.” Lorenzo’s eyes burned, his tone unrelenting. “Admit that you don’t want me dead.”

Mateo’s chest heaved, his hand twitching at his side.

“Say it,” Lorenzo pressed, leaning in close, their foreheads nearly touching. “Say you want me alive.”

Mateo’s voice came out low and raw. “I can’t.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

Mateo shoved past him, pacing. “You don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“Then make me understand,” Lorenzo said, grabbing his arm and yanking him back. His voice dropped into something dangerous and intimate. His eyes burned. “Because I won’t stop until you do.”

“You don’t know the line you’re crossing,” Mateo warned, low and hoarse.

Lorenzo smirked faintly. “Maybe I want to cross it. Maybe I already have.”

Mateo ripped his arm free. “If you don’t leave, Ricardo won’t have to kill me. I’ll do it myself.”

For once, Lorenzo was silent. His gaze lingered on Mateo, as though searching for something hidden. He couldn’t deny he felt a strange attraction towards him. Finally, he gave a faint, humorless smile.

“You’re worse than poison, Cruz, and I promise you’ll regret this later.”

And before Mateo could answer, Lorenzo slipped out the door, gone as suddenly as he had appeared.

Mateo stood frozen, heart pounding in his chest. The silence roared louder than gunfire.

He pressed a hand against the wall, his breath ragged. Ricardo’s order echoed in his skull. Lorenzo’s words burned in his veins.

Two nights, two choices and no way out.

Mateo closed his eyes, whispering to the empty room.

“God help me. I can’t kill him.”