Page 5 of Obsidian Devotion (Empire of Sin & Blood #3)

Lorenzo

B lood never quite washes out from under your fingernails. Not completely. No matter how hard you scrub, traces remain invisible to everyone but you.

I stare at my hands as Olivia paces my office, her heels clicking a frantic rhythm against the hardwood floor. The door has barely closed behind Sofia, but already I can feel the absence of her sharp wit, the challenge in her eyes.

"Are you even listening to me, Lorenzo?" Olivia snaps, dragging my attention back to the crisis at hand.

"Gabriel is in witness protection," I repeat flatly. "With a federal agency."

"Not just any agency." She leans across my desk. "International. Beyond our reach, beyond our influence."

The implications sink in like a blade between my ribs. Gabriel. My protégé. My mistake.

"How reliable is this information?" I keep my voice measured, controlled. Leaders don't panic. I can’t afford to panic.

"Impeccable. My contact at Interpol confirmed it this morning." Olivia runs a hand through her hair. "He's offering them everything, Lorenzo. Everything."

I rise slowly, moving to the window that overlooks the pulsing lights of my club below. Somewhere down there, Sofia is mixing drinks, charming patrons with that razor-sharp smile that reveals nothing while promising everything.

"He won't live long enough to testify." The words come out cold, detached.

Olivia laughs bitterly. "Did you miss the part about international protection? This isn't some local cop we can bribe or threaten. These people are untouchable."

"Everyone is touchable." I turn to face her. "Everyone has a price or a weakness. Often both."

"This isn't one of your operations," she hisses. "Your specialty is breaking bones and smuggling guns, not espionage."

"Gabriel knows me," I whisper. "He knows how I think, how I operate. That makes him dangerous."

"It makes him deadly," she corrects. "If they build a case with his testimony—"

"They won't." I move to the bar, pouring myself another whiskey. I think of Sofia's slender fingers placing the glass on my desk earlier, the way she intentionally avoided touching me. "Tonight. We move tonight."

Olivia stills. "You have a plan?"

"I always have a plan." The lie comes easily. I don’t have a plan, but I’ll come up with one. "We can't let him talk."

"And how do you propose to extract someone from federal witness protection?" Olivia crosses her arms. "Even father isn't sure how to approach this."

The mention of our father tightens the knot in my chest. "Father knows?"

"Matteo told him this afternoon."

Of course he did. Even though he's retired, father still demands to know what’s going on in all aspects of our lives and businesses.

"Father doesn't need to concern himself with this." I drain my glass. "I created this problem. I'll solve it."

Olivia studies me, her expression softening slightly. "Gabriel was my friend too, you know. Before..."

Before I took him under my wing. Before I showed him the darker sides of our business. Before he betrayed us all.

"He stopped being our friend the moment he sold us out," I say, cutting her off. "Now he's just a liability."

"And what about his family? His daughter?”

An image flashes through my mind—Gabriel's little girl at our Christmas party last year, sitting on my lap while I explained how the model train set worked. Her tiny hand in mine, trusting.

I push the memory away. "They're not our concern."

"That's not how family works, Lorenzo," Olivia says quietly. "You taught me that."

The irony burns worse than the whiskey. Family. Loyalty. The principles I've killed for, bled for. The same principles Gabriel has shattered.

"I'll handle it," I say again, more firmly this time. "I need an address, security details, patrol schedules. Everything you can get me in the next hour."

Olivia hesitates, then nods once. "And if you fail? If they connect this back to us?"

“Then you get your wish. You have one less annoying brother.”

"Don't joke about that." She slaps my forearms.

"Who's joking? We both know how this works." I cross to my desk, pulling out the bottom drawer where I keep my weapon. "The family survives, no matter the cost."

Olivia watches me check the gun, her face pale. "Be careful. Please."

"Always am, little sister." I tuck the weapon into my holster. "Now go. Get me what I need."

After she leaves, I sit alone in the silence, running through scenarios, calculating risks. The full weight of the Bellanti operation presses down on my shoulders. One wrong move, and it all collapses.

A soft knock interrupts my thoughts.

"Enter," I call, expecting Olivia with the information.

Instead, Sofia steps through the door, a bottle of my preferred whiskey in one hand.

"Thought you might need a refill," she says, eyeing my empty glass. "Looked like a serious conversation."

I study her, searching for any sign that she overheard. Her expression gives nothing away.

"Business," I say dismissively. "Nothing that concerns you."

She places the bottle on my desk, closer than necessary. I catch the scent of her perfume—something citrusy.

"Everything in this club concerns me," she replies, the hint of a challenge in her voice. "Especially when it has you looking like you're planning a war."

I snort. "Perceptive, aren't you?"

"It's my job to read people." She shrugs, leaning against my desk. "And right now, you're an open book."

"Is that so?" I lean back in my chair, curious despite the urgency of the situation. "And what am I saying?"

Her eyes meet mine, unflinching. "That you're hunting someone who knows too much."

My blood turns cold. I keep my expression neutral, but my hand instinctively moves toward my weapon.

Sofia notices the movement and smiles. "Relax. Like I said, it's my job to read people. The tension in the room when your sister arrived, the way you immediately checked your gun afterward..." She shrugs. "Doesn't take a genius."

"It takes someone who's watching carefully," I counter, studying her. "Why are you watching me so closely, Sofia?"

Something flickers across her face too quickly to identify. "You're the most interesting person in the room. Where else would I look?"

The echo of our earlier conversation isn't lost on me. I stand, moving into her space, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her blue eyes, the slight quickening of her pulse at her throat.

"And what do you see when you look at me?"

Her gaze drops to my mouth for the briefest second before returning to my eyes. "Someone who's about to do something dangerous and probably stupid."

I laugh again, surprised by her audacity. "And what would you suggest instead?"

"I don't know what you're planning," she says carefully, "but whatever it is, there's always a smarter way than the direct approach."

"Sometimes direct is all you have."

Sofia shakes her head slightly. "There are always other options. Sometimes the actual power is in making your enemies destroy themselves."

"I'll keep that in mind," I say, stepping back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

She nods, moving toward the door. "Good luck, Lorenzo. With whatever war you're fighting."

As she reaches for the handle, I call after her, "Sofia."

She turns, eyebrow raised in question.

"When I get back," I say, "we'll finish our conversation from earlier."

A slow smile curves across her lips. "I'm counting on it."

After she leaves, I stand motionless, replaying our interaction. Sofia Rossi is becoming a distraction I can't afford—especially tonight. But there's something about her, something that feels almost like...she understands the darkness inside of me.

I shake off the thought. Gabriel is the priority. Everything else—including my fascination with a certain redheaded bartender—can wait.

Tonight, I reclaim control of my family's future. One way or another.