“Sit.”
Zander gestured to the empty chair beside the other man like we were about to have a normal conversation.
Like I wasn’t standing here with revenge carved into my bones.
I shook my head slowly.
My fingers slid down to my thigh, under the edge of the cape. The metal felt cold when I wrapped my hand around it.
I brought the gun out.
The movement felt louder than it was.
“We can talk just fine like this,” I said.
My arm lifted. The barrel pointed straight at his chest.
My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.
He didn’t flinch.
Not even a blink.
He leaned back against the booth like I was holding a glass of water instead of a gun. His gaze stayed on me. Calm. Steady. Piercing.
Ciro’s body went still beside him. The other man stiffened in his chair, eyes flicking between us, ca
