Page 115

I don’t want to drift away from him.

I grab Enzo’s laptop and scroll through the files on the flash drive again. Evidence sprawls across digital folders like wounds that refuse to close. Ledgers, photos, letters. Threads connect every crime to one man’s ambition. It’s grotesque, brilliant, and infuriating. The teacher in me can’t help but map it, label patterns, and link motives.

Each discovery leads to the same conclusion. The Volkovs, the Creepers, and the Benedettis are all puppets in my father’s empire. He played every side, sold every secret, and walked away with the money while everyone else tore each other apart. If Vincent can be cornered, maybe some of this can still be undone. A fool’s hope, but one that keeps my breath steady. Teachers always believe a lesson can change someone, even a monster.

After knocking once, Marco pushes through the door. “Where’d you go?”

I slap the laptop shut. “A short drive.”

He shakes his head. “You know your well-being is the most important thing…”

“I’m sorry. I just needed to clear my head, Marco.”

He stares at me for a moment before nodding. “You need to be careful. Enzo checked in. He wants me to let you know he’s fine. Didn’t say when he’ll be back.”

“Good” slips out too quickly. The pause seems to trigger his suspicion. I force a smile as he heads toward the kitchen. “Coffee?”

He accepts the offer and settles onto the couch. “You know Gio tried to bluff me last night with a pair of threes?”

I hand him a mug. “Did it work?”

“Kid’s face turned red as a tomato.” Marco chuckles, running a hand through his white blond hair. “Enzo cleaned him out in ten minutes.”

I manage a laugh as I curl into the armchair. “You mentioned once that you used to kickbox. Can you tell me a little more about it?”

Marco grins and rubs his crooked nose, likely a souvenir from his fighting days. “Heavyweight. Made it to regionals before this life found me.” He sips his coffee, a wistful flickering in his eyes. “Had scouts watching. Could’ve gone pro.”

I want to know more. “What happened?”

The cockiness fades, replaced by raw emotion. “Made a stupid choice. Trusted the wrong people.” He shrugs, but the gesture carries weight. “Doping scandal. Career ended before it even started. A week later, Enzo pulled me out of a bar fight. Been here ever since.”

I can very much empathize with him. “You ever think about what you’d do? If you weren’t…here?”

He quiets for a moment and stares into his mug. “Maybe own a gym. Train kids who need somewhere to go. Keep them from making the same mistakes I did.” A ghost of a smile haunts his face. “Give them a shot at something clean.” He shrugs. “Too late now.”

My throat tightens. “It’s not too late, Marco.”

He looks up, surprised. For a second, the bravado drops completely. I see the boy he must’ve been, hopeful and hungry for a meaningful life.

After that, the conversation meanders to old stories and the kind of idle chatter that fills silence without meaning anything. An hour later, he leaves. My mind’s already mapping out a plan for tomorrow. How I can sneak away again to meet the man who used to be my father and confront him for the first time in years.

I’m going to move the pieces on the board. Not Gabi, not Enzo, not Vincent.

Me.

The lights glimmer overhead, both merciless and magnificent. This life is a beast I’ve finally learned to ride.

Tomorrow, I’ll change the game.

Chapter 24

Enzo

My life is a big fucking paradox.

I spent the day hunting a man I might have to kill and whose daughter I’m going home to.

My knuckles ache on the wheel as I head toward the villa where my wife waits. “Vincent must die. Publicly. You’ll do it.”