Page 140 of Veil of Obsession

I edge toward the door. Silence stretches out like a wire pulled tight. Whoever’s out there is waiting.

I crack the curtain with the tip of the blade.

Empty hallway. Nothing but shadows and the fading scrape of footsteps.

My pulse pounds in my ears. I step back, close the curtain, breathe.

That’s when I see it: a flash of something tucked under the door. Another slip of paper.

I grab it carefully, unfolding it like it might bite. One word.

Tonight.

My mouth goes dry. I tear open the drawer and toss through our burner phones, Lucio’s spare ammo, and the stack of cash we keep taped to the underside of the drawer liner. I find my burner and power it on, fingers already dialing before the screen lights up.

Voicemail.

I try again. Still nothing.

My hand starts to shake, and I shove the phone into my pocket like I can force it to work harder just by holding it tighter.

I pace. I don’t know what “tonight” means.

A threat? A deal? A warning? The Vitiellis? Emiliano?

My stomach twists. No one will touch my daughter. I’ll kill them.

That’s when I notice the lights outside the room flicker. Once. Twice. Then off. The buzzing overhead goes still.

Power cut.

I grab the second burner, flip it open, and text Lucio the code we agreed on.

Me:

Blackout. Eyes out.

No read receipt. No reply.

I force myself to sit on the edge of the bed, blade in one hand, phone in the other. Waiting again.

Only this time, it’s not just anger I’m feeling. It’s dread.

Something’s coming. And I have no idea if we’re ready for it.

But I know one thing with absolute clarity. When he walks back through that door—ifhe walks back through that door—I’m not just going to yell at him.

I’m going to fight beside him. Bleed beside him. And if I have to, I’ll burn this whole goddamn city down to keep what’s ours.

48

Lucio

Vegas is still dark, the neon signs asleep, the sky a deep bruise above us. I sit on the edge of the motel bed, watching the minute hand tick past 2:59 AM. Princess is still curled under the covers, her breath shallow and twitchy like even her dreams are bracing for a fight.

I reach out and brush a knuckle along her jaw. She flinches.

Yeah. That tracks.