Page 68 of A Mastery of Crows
Cat stays by my side as I reach out and rip a white envelope from the middle body. My name is printed on the outside in sprawling, messy handwriting.
Luciano,
I know how much you enjoy a party.
MC
“That’s it?” Cat frowns.
I flip the note over. Written on the other side is a date and time.
“Two hours from now,” Cat mutters. “Any bet this is connected to his little RICO game?”
“I wouldn’t waste my money.” Slowly, I reach for the first hood on the left, tugging it free.
The mannequin spins slowly, grotesquely painted in the mockery of a face. “The hell isthatsupposed to be?”
Cat slides a knife free. She stabs it into the plastic, slicing through the thick material and ripping it away.
The bottom drops out of my stomach as I take in the thick black letters printed across the mannequin’s chest.
AMIE.
I stare at those letters for more than a minute before I crumple the note in my hand, storming over to the swaying figure on the right and rip the hood away.
Another mannequin.
Cat’s face turns ashen. “Vincent.”
At her shout, he appears beside her, Dom a half-step behind him. “Where’s Tony?”
Vincent hesitates. “I… don’t know. He hasn’t been around much.”
“Call him,” she says tightly. “Right now. Tell him to get back here within the hour.”
Vincent follows her eyes, curses as he digs in his pocket. Frowning, I look between them and back to the mannequin, taking in the jagged mark slashed down its face. I don’t recognise it, twisted as it is. “Who is this supposed to be?”
Silently, she slices the plastic away, and behind me, both Gio and Stefano hiss in realization.
FRANKIE.
Stefano steps around me, moving for Cat, but she ducks away from him, holding up a hand. “Don’t.”
“It’s not your fault.” He pushes those words at her, even as the guilt crawls across her face.
“She went there for me that night,” she says tightly. “And she didn’t come out. Salvatore found her.”
I think of the women dancing around Matteo, night after night. The boasts he made. “And he gave her to Matteo.”
Gio sounds rough when he speaks. “She knew the risks, Cat. She chose to go. She wanted to fight.”
Cat stares down at her nails, searching for something. I don’t stop her when she stalks to the final mannequin and rips off the hood.
It slips from her hand, her lips parting as she jerks back.
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