Chapter 27 · In the Crosshairs

The tinted glass slid down, and Dominic Castellane stared at me like I was the one holding the match.

"Get in the car, Mara."

I pressed Victor’s order hard against my ribs. Sweat and somebody else's fresh copper blood soaked right through the folded sheet into my shirt. My left boot was gone, lost somewhere back in the trash behind the loading dock. Slime and freezing alley muck sucked at my sock.

"Go to hell."

"Later." His jaw clenched until the cord in his neck stood out. "Right now, get in."

"You lied to my face." My voice cracked. I despised myself for it. "Every single day. Twelve years."

"Yes."

Just that. No dodge. No pretty excuses.

It bruised worse than a fist.

Behind me, heavy soles slapped standing water. Two guys. Maybe three. Paced, steady, taking their time. You only walk that slow when you already know the exit’s sealed.

I whipped around.

A laser dot flicked over the wet brick by Dominic’s door. Small. Clean. Creeping slow like it owned the alley.