[CAMI]
Marco walks ahead of me, his hands tucked into his pockets. He’s too tall, and I stare at the back of his head, trying to glare a hole into it, because how does he manage to appear so relaxed most of the time?
He stops in front of a door I haven’t seen before. Not surprising—the villa is so massive it feels endless, like a labyrinth built to swallow me whole. He knocks once.
“Come in,” Zeke’s voice carries through.
Marco opens the door but doesn’t step inside. He gestures for me to go. For a second, I consider refusing, but I’ve already asked for this. So I step forward.
Zeke isn’t alone. Dante’s here, hunched over a laptop, files scattered across the table between them. The glow from the screen paints his face in hard lines. Important mafia business, obviously, and I’m the int
