Page 120 of Devil's Azalea

I tap download and press play, watching in slow motion exactly what Romero described. Every horrific detail unfolds before my eyes.

Hearing that the woman who essentially raised you—the woman who became a second parent to you, the woman who swore up and down that the man you loved killed your father, the woman who set you on a path of revenge against that same man you loved,stilllove—was actually the one who pulled the trigger is one kind of heartbreak. But watching it happen?

That’s devastating beyond repair.

Like Romero said, the video is pretty grainy. But there’s no mistaking what’s happening. No mistaking the faces. The betrayal on Dad’s face after Stacey shot him. The desperation on Rafael's as he crawled to my father despite his own injury. The calculated coldness on Stacey’s as she raised her hand to stop the agents from going after Rafael and the guys as they disappeared through a doorway.

I play it again. And again. Each time hoping the outcome will change, that it won’t be Stacey holding the smoking gun. But every time, it’s her. Reality doesn’t bend to desperate wishes.

The video blurs, then vanishes altogether. I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision, but the tears still come.I thought I was all cried out.Fuck, what do I do? I can’t breathe, I can’t–

My phone rings in my trembling hand. Katie.

“Katie, I?—”

“I found the truth, Emily. I found everything. You need to see this.”

“Oh.” My voice is dull, flat. I want to ask how she found the truth, but I can’t force out more than that one word.

“You need to come meet me at Yellow Chilli,” she continues, naming our favorite restaurant. “I’ll tell you everything, and I have hard evidence that no one can refute.”

“What did you find?”

“This isn’t safe to discuss over the phone. You understand why, right? But it’s big, Em. Really big, I swear.”

Heavy-hearted, I agree to meet her at Yellow Chilli. I honestly don’t know how I manage to navigate through the traffic on my bike with my head clouded by shock and grief. Deep down, I know what she’s going to tell me won’t be any different from what I’ve already learned, but darned hope builds inside me anyway.

Maybe there was some kind of mistake. Maybe Stacey was trying to defend herself.

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

I make it to Yellow Chilli and put my bike in park directly in front of the restaurant. I hesitate for long minutes, engine ticking as it cools before I can force myself to move. The tightness in my chest feels like it might crush my ribs. Breathing has never required this much conscious effort.

The first thing that registers when I step inside is the complete emptiness of the restaurant.

Yellow Chilli is always packed with customers. Always. The silence feels ominous and wrong. My gaze finds Katie waving at me from a corner booth, and the guilt written across her face makes my stomach plummet.

Then my gaze drops to the woman next to her.Stacey.

Did Katie set me up?

41

RAFAEL

I’m at one of my clubs, working on my laptop in the office because I love making surprise visits to keep my employees on their toes.

The door suddenly explodes open, and Enzo barrels in, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face.

I’m on my feet before he even utters a word, slamming my laptop shut. “Emilia?”

She snuck out a few hours ago—the little minx thought she was being clever. The only reason I’m not tearing the city apart yet is because of my man tailing her. Last report had her at the courthouse with Romero.

“No.” Enzo gulps air like a drowning man. “A bomb just took out our weapons warehouse in Tribeca. Russian drone delivered it personally.”

Fucking hell. I don’t waste time with more questions. We walk out of the office together, our strides quick. The club continues its normal rhythm around us as we cut through the crowd. I catch the eye of one of my stationed men in the corner and jerk my head towards him.

He approaches just as my phone buzzes with a text—no,severaltexts from the chat I have with my brothers. One glance tells me everything.