32. Marco

Chapter 32

Marco

I can't help myself. That night, after obsessing over what to do about Laura, I log into her system and find it completely open to me. The link is still there, and now all the cameras are working again. It's like finding buried treasure. No, even better. It's like finding out that the Garden of Eden is real and waiting.

The living room is empty. Her bedroom laptop shows only darkness. When I flip to her basement camera, I almost get up from my seat in surprise.

There's a piece of paper set up a foot away from the lens. The text is written in a cramped but legible hand.

Jackal. Marco. Simon knows about us. He had me followed, and now I'm stuck here. He took my car and there are guards watching my house. I'm trapped, even though I don't want to be. I'm sorry. I want to see you, but I don't know how. Please, protect yourself. Laura.

I read the note again and again as the horror sinks in.

Don Bianco knows about my relationship with his little sister.

If I wasn't a target before, I sure as fuck am now.

A dozen thoughts run through my head. But before I do anything, I send a message to Laura.

Marco: Are you okay? Tell me you're okay.

There's a short delay, then the message moves away from the camera lens. It shows her basement studio. There's a half-formed jackal ear lying on its side. Laura's in dust-covered overalls with a respirator over her face; her hair is covered in white and she's holding her chisel in one hand. She waves and pretends to blow a kiss before she turns back to her work.

That's the best I'll get from her for now. I know Laura well enough at this point to know that she's going to lose herself in her work for a while, and that's fine with me. So long as she's safe.

I set up my defenses after that. A string of security cameras around the entire property plus a few guards-for-hire on retainer. They'll lurk around in the parking lot, just in case.

Then I call Valentina. "You can't come here anymore."

"I'm sorry, what now? How am I supposed to get my coffee fix?"

"Simon Bianco knows about my relationship with Laura." Saying it out loud wasn't so bad. I figured that would be harder.

She's quiet for a beat. I figure she'll be livid—this is putting everything we've worked for in jeopardy. Now the Bianco Famiglia will be watching me closely, and good luck getting this alliance shit off the ground, much less planning an attack on them.

"I'll be over in a few minutes," she says.

"Valentina—" But too late. She already hung up. I try calling, except I get the dreaded Fuck-You button, and ten minutes later she's barging in through my door.

She stands in my kitchen, staring at me. She says nothing as I watch her from the living room. The setting sun casts long, golden light through her hair, and I'm reminded of how much we've been through together. The stress of living in the Santoro Mafia, the horror of her father's death, the chaos afterward, and all the rebuilding we've done together since.

"You're such a dumb asshole," she says at last, and it's almost a relief. "But this is a good thing."

I sit down on the arm of the couch and try to let that sink in. "How the fuck is this good?" I ask, honestly at a loss. "This is the worst possible news imaginable."

"No, you idiot, this is exactly what you need." She opens the refrigerator and takes out two beers, tossing me one. I catch it as she cracks hers. I wait for the suds to die down before opening mine. "Listen, I get it, you like the girl. She's hot and a little crazy, which is sort of right up your alley."

"She's not crazy," I say, even though she sort of is, and I'm also a little crazy too, which is why we work.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter. You knew that whole thing was doomed from the start. It was a fucking mess, Marco, and it was affecting your work. Our work. Everything we've been fighting for." She comes toward me and takes a long pull from her drink. I sip mine, stewing in a cold, quiet dread building in my guts. "Now it's out in the open. Don Bianco knows you were banging his kid sister?—"

"Please don't call her a kid , that's fucked up."

"You know what I mean. Even if you think you still want to see her, we both know you can't. It's over with her. Like it or not, you and Laura Bianco are finished. You're broken up. Which means you can get your head out of your fucking ass and start concentrating on what really matters, which is hitting those bastards back for taking everything from us."

Valentina's grip on her drink tightens. Her knuckles turn white as she holds the bottle so hard I wonder if she might break the glass. She's normally so fucking strong, all big smiles and confidence. She's put together and in charge, and sometimes I forget that she's messed-up and mourning the death of her father and filled with a violent rage deep enough to drown her in. I was like that too not long ago, except I can finally see her for what she is, which means I can see myself for what I was too. I crawled out of that, mostly because Laura helped pull me free.

But Valentina's still trapped. It's the cycle of revenge. It's the lie she keeps telling herself that if we hit the Biancos back, if we kill enough of them and take away some of their power, then it'll fill the hole in her heart and soothe all her raw grief. Except it won't. We both know it won't. And I can't make her see it.

"Laura isn't a part of all that," I say, and I know it was the wrong thing. Valentina flinches like I struck her.

"What is with you?" she asks, sounding desperate. "Why the fuck do you care about this girl more than what we've worked for?"

"It's not like that." Except maybe it is. I need Laura now, need her more than I've ever needed revenge.

"Don Bianco is going to kill you. Adam, Ronan, none of them are going to help. They'll gladly watch you die when they find out you've been fucking a Bianco girl behind their backs this whole time, and can you even blame them? I'm not sure I'll try to talk them out of it."

That hurts. I can't pretend like it doesn't. Valentina, my best friend, the girl I saved from being used and abused by her father's former Capos, now wouldn't care if I were dead.

Which can't be true. I know it isn't true. She's hurt, but she's not cruel. That's not who she is. "There are other ways. Laura understands, she can help?—"

Valentina's laugh is pained. She slugs down her beer. "Laura's a fucking Bianco and you're delusional. Don Bianco's going to cut your throat if you don't let this shit with his sister go and start thinking clearly."

I grind my jaw. "I am thinking clearly. Remember how I told you not to come here?"

"Yah, because you're a coward and didn't want to face me."

"No, you asshole. Because Don Bianco would happily kill you if he so much as caught a whiff of your existence. I've been hiding you this whole fucking time, remember? You're a digital ghost. You're legally dead, thanks to a bit of hacking. But if he spots you, then the hunt's back on."

She stares at me. Anger and denial drip from her posture. But she knows I'm right. "Then I guess I'll go and leave you to whatever stupid decision you make."

"Val, I just don't want you to get hurt."

"Too late for that." She walks to the door. "Just get over the girl, okay? I want my friend back. When you see sense, give me a call." Then she's gone, the door slamming behind her.

I lean against the counter. I can't even blame her for feeling that way. I knew she'd hate me—she's just taking longer to get there. But eventually, when she realizes that this thing with Laura isn't going away, she'll have no other choice, and I'll lose my friend for good.