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“I didn’t know anyone would be here—”

“You didn’t know?” His voice is quiet, cutting like a blade. “That makes you either incredibly stupid…or a terrible liar.”

I flinch as he leans in, the gun in his holster catching the light. He’s so close that I can feel the cold press of his stare.

“I didn’t see anything. I—I’ll leave, vanish. You’ll never hear from me again, I s—swear,” I stammer.

“Swear?” He repeats the word like it’s foreign, rolling it off his tongue with disdain. “You think I believe that?”

My fear crawls up my throat, choking me. I feel small and pathetic, but I can’t stop begging. “Please. I’m just an artist who paints around the city at night. That’s all.”

“You lie poorly,” he snarls.

“I’m not lying!”

Fuck. Did I just yell at him?

“I—I—I mean, I didn’t see anything,” I stammer.

Of all the stupid things I could’ve done, yelling at the man who’s likely a minute away from blowing my brains out? Brilliant.

He tilts his head, his eyes drilling into me. His face is a mask, unreadable and cold, but the silence that follows is unnerving. It goes on for too long, and I can practically see the gears turning in his mind as he contemplates one of a million ways to dismember me.

“I—”

“Shut up.”

His voice isn’t loud, but it cuts through the air like a whip. I bite my lip hard, the metallic tang of blood pooling on my tongue.

My mouth snaps shut before I can make things worse, though I doubt that’s even possible now.

He gestures, and the man holding me shoves me forward. I stumble, nearly crashing into him. But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch, even as the space between us buzzes with unease like a live wire ready to snap.

“Boss, I can tell she’s not someone who would be missed,” one of the men mutters. “We can just take care of her.”

Remo’s eyes stay fixed on mine. “And if she’s not?”

The silence speaks louder than words after Remo’s question. A breath held for too long.

Remo exhales, slow and measured, his jaw tightening. He tilts his head, his eyes raking over me. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

“Please, I promise I won’t say anything. Just let me go,” I plead.

His voice is calm when he replies, “And I’m supposed to trust the word of someone who thinks vandalizing public property is acceptable? Doesn’t exactly scream model citizen, does it?”

“I swear,” I rasp.

“Do you?”

The gun is in his hand before I even register the movement. One second, his hand is empty. The next, the cold barrel is pressing against my forehead.

“No, wait!”

But it’s too late. He pulls the trigger. A loud bang echoes in the air.

Chapter 2

Daniela