Luciano
The moment she disappeared through the club doors, I leaned back in my chair and signaled to Dagger with a slight tilt of my head.
He stepped closer immediately.
“Find out who she is,” I said, my voice low but firm. “And report back to me soon.”
“Yes, sir.”
He didn’t ask questions. He just nodded.
The rest of the night blurred into alcohol.
Glass after glass.
The burn of whiskey, the low music, bodies moving under dim lights, but none of it stayed in my mind long enough to matter.
Only her did.
The next morning, I woke up with a dull weight behind my eyes.
I didn’t bother changing. I walked downstairs in my loose pajamas, my steps slow but steady, and headed straight to the kitchen.
The smell hit me before I even stepped in.
Fried eggs. Sausages. Toast. Grilled tomatoe
