Page 80 of Dangerous King (Savage Kings of New York #2)

The next afternoon…

We set the meeting deep in the industrial district, in a dead zone with no cameras, no heat, and no foot traffic unless you're running from something. We have to be sure Edoardo's men aren't watching. He can't know we're talking.

Can't know we're planning behind his back.

The concrete feels colder today. Or maybe I'm just more aware of it. A few feet away, a rusted fan ticks uselessly in the rafters, stirring air that still smells like grease and rust and old blood.

Marcello is here too. New hair growth covers the scars on his skull, and he still sports a slight limp, but he's as sharp as ever.

Stephano stands by the surveillance rig we smuggled out of Valente. His usual crisp presence is dulled, sleeves rolled, shirt rumpled. He looks like a man ready for war.

Toni sits across from me, legs spread, elbows on his knees, one boot tapping restlessly against the steel floor.

Stephano queues up the casino footage again, scrubbing through hours of glossy celebration and hidden rot.

On fast forward, I watch bodies brush past each other like ghosts, happy and angry faces become interchangeable.

"There," he says, freezing the frame. "That's her."

The screen sharpens. Donna Margarita.

Marcello perks up and moves in closer.

What the fuck is she doing there? Not that she isn't allowed to gamble, but to be there the night Ledyanoy Prizrak abducted my sister and tagged Kingsley is one hell of a coincidence.

She's dressed like a guest, pearls and deep red silk, and she's moving through the crowd with a practiced grace.

But her eyes give her away. They aren't on the tables or the machines.

They're on him .

"She followed him?" Toni asks.

Stephano clicks forward, frame by frame. "Watch."

Ledyanoy Prizrak. Dressed like any of the other guests and holding a phone, steps in behind the crowd like he belongs. He brushes past Kingsley. Shakes his hand. Says something. A smile, perfectly placed.

"That's the tag," Stephano mutters, rewinding and zooming slightly.

"Then a few minutes later…" He fast-forwards. "Here."

On screen, Donna Margarita sidles up to the assassin. They step into a dim alcove near the kitchen corridor. It doesn't look like they're talking. He's looking down at his phone. But then she leans in.

"What does that mean?" Toni asks.

Stephano exhales. "I don't know. But I don't think it was innocent."

I sit back and rub the bridge of my nose.

"Cat saw him," I say.

Both heads turn toward me.

"Ledyanoy Prizrak," I clarify. "At the Giordanos. Only days before Izzy was taken. She didn't recognize him until after the bomb—she remembers the bald head, the eyes. Same man."

Stephano curses under his breath.

"So he was already here," Toni says. "Embedded. Watching us."

I nod. "He wasn't freelance. Not this time. Omertà Infernale gave him the contract and access."

"But who hired Omertà Infernale?" Toni shakes his head.

"Better yet, who runs Omertà Infernale?" Marcello mumbles to no one in particular.

"Could have been Giovanni," Stephano answers Toni. "Or Roberto. Both had reach."

Toni glances at the screen. "What about her?" he asks, chin lifting toward Margarita's image.

Stephano shrugs. "Maybe a messenger. A go-between. I don't see her planting bombs or hiring assassins, but passing information? Facilitating meetings? That she'd do."

"Don't underestimate her. Fabio said she was the one who ordered the hit on Jacomo and me.

" Marcello reminds us. He's been busy since he was released from the hospital.

Not only was he chasing his nurse, he was also trying to find his missing sister.

Most recently, he'd eliminated Donna Margarita's lover, Fabio.

"He's right," I nod.

"We should definitely watch her," Toni cautions.

"I am. That woman isn't taking a piss without me knowing," Marcello adds darkly. He still thinks Donna Margarita has something to do with his missing sister, Sophia. It makes sense for him to have his men watch her.

Ledyanoy Prizrak's words before he swallowed the cyanide come back to me.

You should really look deeper into La Famiglia, Sartori.

Because the ghost you're hunting? Might be a lot closer than you think.

"We need to find the link between Ledyanoy Prizrak and Donna Margarita. They knew each other. How? Why?"

"On it," Stephano cracks his fingers dramatically.

"And her connection with Edoardo," Toni warns. "I still think she blackmailed him into marrying her daughter. What does she have on him?"

"He's right," I agree. "There is a connection, but let's not forget that both are playing for different teams. So both could be planning things independently."

"That makes the capos what?" Stephano asks, looking up from his computer. When we don't answer, he shares his thoughts. "Collateral damage," he finishes darkly.

"Okay, so let's say Edoardo is trying to eliminate the capos," Marcello picks up Stephano's hypothesis, "for whatever reason," he raises his hands in surrender, because, yeah, I can't see a motive either.

"Somehow it has something to do with the Venezuelans.

" He looks at each one of us, waiting for a nod, because, again, yeah, there's something there, we know that.

"Whatever agenda Donna Margarita has, I don't think it has anything to do with whatever it is Edoardo is doing. "

Again, all of us nod.

Stephano sighs, "Great, it feels like we're catching up one step, only to be pushed back two."

Toni agrees, "For every answer we find, two more riddles pop up."

His words remind me once again of Ledyanoy Prizrak and his ominous words. I rub the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on.

I don't respond. I'm too busy staring at the screen, at the frozen image of Donna Margarita wearing that familiar, unreadable smile.

She looks like she belongs there, like she's just another wealthy guest slipping through the casino crowd.

But I've seen that expression before. Behind the smile are the eyes of a snake, watchful and calculating, planning.

What are you hiding?

What's your endgame?

Because whatever it is, we're going to dig. And whatever you've buried, we'll drag it into the light—piece by piece, body by body. And when that happens? There won't be a mask left to hide behind.

Your lover is dead. Your son is gone. Your grandson, too. The noose is tightening.

Let's see how wily you really are.

Or who's still hiding in the shadows, pulling strings for you.

Because time's up.

We're coming for you and Edoardo.

THE END of Dangerous King