{Nico’s pov}
Lorenzo De Luca. He had been under my roof for eight years. He sat at my table. Ate my food. Called me boss. Call me brother.
And all that time, He’d been feeding my enemies every secret I bled to build. The man standing fifty yards ahead wasn’t just a traitor. He was a dead man walking.
I lowered the smoking gun in my hand. The body of his closest guard dropped to the deck. Blood ran between the cracks of the pier.
Lorenzo didn’t flinch.
He smiled.
A cold, sharp smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His hand gripped Elena’s arm tightly, yanking her toward the ship ramp. I stalked forward slowly. Matteo flanked me, gun up and ready.
“Lorenzo,” I called, my voice echoing over the open water. “I should’ve known it was you.”
His grin widened.
“You should’ve,” he agreed. His
