“I only meant to frighten her.”
“You wired a bomb under her car.”
“It was set to go off after she got out of the vehicle.”
Salvatore made a small, disgusted sound. “You still believe that?”
Nico turned on him. “What?”
“The device was built to kill her the moment the engine started. I told you what you needed to hear to keep your hands steady.”
Dante watched the realization crack across his brother’s face. Nico had betrayed him — but Salvatore had been steering them both from the shadows the entire time.
“Why?” Dante asked.
Salvatore lowered the gun from Milo just long enough to level it at Dante instead. “Because your father promised me this organization thirty years ago. When he died, I expected you to honor that.”
“There was no such arrangement.”
“There were three decades of loyalty.”
“There were three decades of theft,” Dante said. “You were bleeding money through our shipping accounts. Elena found the records.”
Salvatore’s expression sharpened. Dante finally understood.
“She found your ledgers.”
“She should have kept them to herself.”
“So you killed her for it.”
“I told Nico to frighten her. He was too jealous to ask the right questions before agreeing.”
Milo’s crying grew louder. Sienna took one slow step forward. “Milo, look at me.”
Salvatore swung the gun toward her instead. “One more step, and the boy watches you die.”
She froze.
Dante shifted his weight fractionally, calculating angles, distances, the likely positions of anyone hidden behind the inner columns. Salvatore held one visible weapon. Nico likely carried another beneath his jacket. Bruno’s team was closing on the hill from three directions, but they needed a signal, and there was no clean way to give one without a bullet finding Milo first.
Sienna’s hand drifted to the gold locket at her throat.
Then she began to sing — barely louder than a breath.
“You are my moon when the sky turns gray…”
Milo’s crying slowed.
“You are my light at the end of the day…”
Nico frowned. “Stop that.”
She kept going. “When the night runs cold and the world feels far…”
Dante recognized the melody instantly. Elena used to hum it while she cooked, off-key and completely unaware anyone was listening.
“Follow the sound of the morning star.”
Sienna let the locket fall. It struck the marble floor with a sharp metallic crack — the signal.
Gunfire erupted outside the mausoleum. Salvatore spun toward the entrance, and Dante moved. He closed the distance in three strides, striking Salvatore’s wrist as the older man fired — the bullet shattered a candleholder instead of a person. Nico grabbed for his own weapon, and Sienna threw herself over Milo as Dante drove Salvatore into a column.
A blade came free from Salvatore’s sleeve and opened a line across Dante’s ribs. He grunted, caught the older man’s arm, and slammed it against the stone until the knife dropped.
Behind them, Nico raised his gun toward Sienna. “Move away from the boy!”
She only pulled Milo tighter. “No.”
“I will shoot you.”
“Then you’ll have to look him in the eyes while you do it.”