DANTE:
I should have been on the phone with Tate and Martin, arranging payouts, collecting signatures, and drafting contracts. Instead, I lay on a makeshift bed on someone’s floor, staring at shadows on the ceiling as they crept and shifted like accusatory fingers.
Guilt lodged in my chest like swallowed glass.
When the hell had I developed a conscience? Business had always been simple. Identify the target. Execute the plan. Collect the profit. Move on. Emotions were liabilities. Attachments were weaknesses.
So why did Mrs. Wealth's vote for DreamHaven feel like I'd just kicked a puppy?
The town had celebrated. Handshakes. Hugs. Smiles directed at Cinnamon and me. They didn't know. Couldn't know. Once I secured this project, once the ink dried and the contracts were executed, represen
