Blood pooled beneath the courier's body. The metallic smell mixed with the warehouse's damp air as Santino kept his face blank, but his heart pounded. El Amore's shot had been perfect, a message written in blood.
The old man tucked the pistol into his jacket. His face showed nothing as Mia stood beside him in her black suit. But her eyes never left Santino's face.
"You refused my order," El Amore said, his voice low and rough. "Yet you still stand here."
Santino met his gaze directly. "Killing him was wasteful. I offered a better way."
"Wasteful?" El Amore chuckled. The sound was dry, like autumn leaves. "Loyalty isn't about being efficient," said Santino Leandro. It's about proving you belong to me."
He stepped closer. The light from the warehouse caught his sharp eyes. "But your bol
