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"Perhaps I'll simply take it from you. Where is it—in your pocket? Did you bring a bag?"

"I'll create a scene if you try anything. You might get away. Or you might not. Are you willing to gamble?"

I smile maniacally. She consistently surprises me.

Noticing Ramirez watching me, I suppress my expression. I can't compromise my reputation for stoic severity.

"Whatever it is, spit it out," Adrian snaps.

"Before you showed me the police report, I asked Nico to investigate my mother's death. He told me something interesting. He told me you were the one who executed her. He explained the Russians ordered it. The cops even had you and Viktor Barinov on tape, but mysteriously, the evidence vanished, and the cop suddenly developed collective amnesia... well, almost all."

"Someone's been telling tales, then," Adrian muses.

"Is it true?" Sienna demands.

"That's not how this works, sweetheart," Adrian says sarcastically.

I tremble with the effort of holding myself back. The image of Adrian daring to touch my woman's throat haunts me relentlessly.

Sienna reaches beneath the table, presumably into her handbag, extracting the recording device. She holds it on her side of the table. "Same deal—if you take this, I scream. This recording contains Nico confessing to numerous crimes. Gianna, too. You could send them both to federal prison. But I need the truth. Or I'll die before I let you have this."

"You foolish slut," Adrian snarls. "What good will the truth do you now? What do you think will happen if I tell you the truth? It changes nothing. The past is the past. Soon, this city will belong to us."

"To you and Viktor."

"He deserves Dallas far more than my cousin ever did. Nico’s stuck in the past. He's too soft. He believes in running the mob like a legit business. But this isn't business. It's our private corner of hell."

"That doesn’t answer my question."

"Look at me, Sienna Vale," Adrian says, weaponizing her full name. "I know who you are. I know where you live. Look into my eyes."

"I'm looking."

"If you don’t give me that device, I’m going to kill you. I don’t care. I’ll do it here and skip town if I have to. Do you think I'm lying?"

"You'll have to kill me and take it if you don’t give me the truth."

"Your mother was an inconsequential part of the fucking story," Adrian erupts. "She was nothing—a woman who happened to be present while I did what countless others lacked the courage to do. I killed your worthless mother, and I'll kill you too if you don't give me that. Now!"

"That's enough," Ramirez declares, reaching for her radio. "Officers—grab him. Don’t let him go for his gun."

Suddenly, three men from the table next to Sienna’s stand and converge on Adrian. He roars and reaches for his gun, but they’re on him quickly, tackling him and securing his arms behind his back. They drag him from the restaurant.

I vault from the van and sprint across the street. The officers and Adrian pass me in the hallway. Adrian bellows, "Viktor won't let you get away with this!"

I lunge at him, wrap my hand around his throat, and slam him against the wall. The officers back off, seemingly reluctant to get in the way. I hoist Adrian off his feet, constricting his slender neck, feeling the delicate muscles there ready to snap with just the right amount of pressure.

"If it were my decision, I'd squeeze until you had no breath left, cousin. But someone more compassionate and intelligent than me wants you to face justice."

"Nico," Ramirez calls, rushing into the lobby.

A moment later, Sienna appears. “Let him go, Nico," she urges.

“Like I said, cousin, fortune favors you."

When I release my grip, he collapses, gasping and staring up at me like a coward he is. I recall childhood moments—the laughter—mentally compartmentalizing those memories and sealing them away.

“Take him away," I command.