Chapter Five

The sound of the door clicking shut behind my uncle still echoed in my head as I flopped back down on the couch, rubbing my temples.

He was right about one thing, I'd raised some eyebrows. But that was what I wanted, wasn't it? Let them take a sneak peak. Let them wonder.

I needed a shower.

I dragged myself over and walked across the room, stripping off my clothes and dropping them in a bunch on the floor as I made it to the bathroom.

The hot water pounded against my skin, beating the tension out of me, but my mind refused to settle. I was thinking about Lombardi. About his weakness. About how easy it would be to slit his throat in his sleep if I wanted to.

But that wasn't the plan. Atleast, not yet.

After taking a cold bath, I tied a towel around myself and emerged, collapsing into my chair in front of my laptop. Maybe getting some work done would cure me. I had papers to sort, and ends to tie. But when I looked at the screen, the words blurred together.

Damn it.

I released a hard breath and closed the laptop.

Fresh air. That's what I needed.

Grabbing a robe, I put on slippers, and headed out, moving across to the other side of the villa.

It was a huge estate, a large house, one that the Marino family had owned for centuries. My brother and I grew up there, learning to navigate its rooms before we even set foot outside into the outside world.

And now, it was his to rule.

The walk cleared my head a bit, but not nearly as much as I had needed. I needed to talk to someone. I needed a distraction and that could be provided by only one person.

As I made my way across the villa to my brother's side of it, his housekeeper, a woman in mid-forties with sharp eyes and a similarly sharp tongue, looked up from disinfecting the foyer table.

"He's in his office," she said to me, without asking whether I was there to visit him or not. She already knew.

"Of course he is." I flashed her a smirk and kept walking. I did not get on well with this woman and I’m still yet to work out why Matheo does but that's his business.

When I reached his office, I didn't even knock.

I pushed open the door and the moment I walked in, my brother's voice greeted me.

"If it isn't the Red Reaper herself," he leaned back in his chair, drawing out the words with a grin. "The deadliest assassin our clan has ever known. The lady with so many on her body count list, even the devil takes note. What brings you here, oh terrorizer of men?"

I rolled my eyes, shutting the door behind me. "You sound impressed."

"I am," he admitted, grinning. "But also a little concerned. I mean, at this point, you're making the rest of us look bad."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "So, what's the occasion? Did you get bored with killing people and decide you would bless me with your presence?"

I crossed my arms. "Maybe I just missed you."

He raised his brow. "Oh, really?"

I smiled. "Didn't think so."

I collapsed into the chair across from him, stretching out my legs.

"Spill it already," he said after a moment, his expression easing a fraction. "I recognize that look. Something's bothering you."

I wanted to brush it off, but what was the point? He knew me too well.

"You heard about my latest temper tantrum, didn't you?" I asked, smiling.

He shook his head with a short laugh. "The whole city heard about it. But I do know who did it precisely. The lipstick stunt? Melodramatic. Are you not going to get tired of it?"

I shrugged. "I like making an impression."

He breathed in, regarding me. "And Uncle? I'd bet he was not pleased."

I chuckled. "That's putting it mildly. He came over just to tell me I'm irresponsible. That I'm making a scene and that I have to watch my step."

My brother didn't reply immediately. He just tapped his fingers on the desk, his sharp eyes locked on mine. "He's right."

I hesitated slightly.

"But," he continued before I could object, "so are you."

That made me pause.

"He wants you to be careful, and I do too. But I also know you can handle yourself. Hell, you're better than half the men in our unit. Maybe even better than me."

I grinned. "You finally admit it!"

He made a derisive sound, shaking his head. "Don't get too full of yourself, signorina. You're second in command for a reason. I'm still the boss here."

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "Big, egotistical ass."

He grinned, his teeth flashing in the dim light of his office. "You love me."

"Debatable."

He chuckled again, but then his expression turned serious. A flicker of something unreadable passed through his dark eyes, something weighty.

"But in earnest, Francesca. Be careful. I want Lombardi dead as much as you do. I want the truth. But if you push too hard, you’ll make yourself too big of a target, you won't be able to use that opportunity."

The air between us shifted, the easy banter giving way to the raw, unspoken emotions that had been lingering beneath the surface.

I met his gaze, my voice steady. "I'm being careful."

He studied me for a long moment, his sharp features cast in the low glow of his desk lamp. Finally, he exhaled, leaning back in his chair, a hand raking through his dark hair. "Good. Because I'm not ready to lose you."

A tightness curled in my chest, constricting like an iron band.

I masked it with a smirk. "You'd be lost without me."

He smirked right back, tilting his head. "Obviously."

I smiled, shaking my head, but the weight of our words lingered. Beneath the teasing, there was truth.

We only had each other.

And I wouldn’t die. Not before I got what I wanted. I wouldn’t let this end until Lombardi was dead at my feet.

And if that meant stepping further into the darkness, so be it.

My brother sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Promise me you’ll keep your head down for now."

I opened my mouth to respond, but then…

Buzz.

My phone vibrated against my palm, the sound slicing through the tense silence.

I glanced down at the screen.

Unknown Number. A single message.

"We need to talk. Lombardi."

The room felt colder.

Mybrother's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. And then, everything became infinitely more complicated.

What did Lombardi want?