The warehouse m******e made the news.
“GANG WAR IN QUEENS: 15 DEAD IN SUSPECTED CARTEL HIT”
No mention of me. No mention of Dante. No mention of the hacker girl who pulled a trigger.
Don Sergio owned the NYPD. And the papers. And the truth.
I watched the report from Dante’s office. He’d given me an office. Next to his. Glass walls. So he could watch me. So everyone could see his queen.
His queen. God.
My hands still smelled like gunpowder. Three days later and I still scrubbed them raw.
The door opened. No knock. Dante never knocked.
“You’re trending,” he said. He tossed a tablet on my desk.
It was the Stary app. His Captive In Silk.
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My stomach dropped. “How”
“Vincent posted it,” Dante said. “From your drafts. Don Sergio wan
