Dominic's eyes narrowed at me, and I could feel the tension rise in the room. The associates went still. Glasses paused halfway to mouths. The particular silence that descends when the Don's displeasure becomes visible.
"Didn't I tell you not to come?" Dominic snapped, his irritation breaking through.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Penelope quickly jumped in, pouting dramatically. "I'm sorry, Dominic. I just wanted some chips, so I tricked her into coming," she said, her voice dripping with superficial innocence.
Dominic's hard expression softened as he reached out, ruffling Penelope's hair affectionately. "You little munchkin," he muttered with a fond smile.
The fondness in his voice. The ease of the gesture. I catalogued it the way I'd catalogued a thousand moments like it over seven years, each one a small cut I'd trained myself not to bleed from. But tonight was different. Tonight I was already packed. Tonight I was already gone in every way that mattered.
Watching him, I knew this was my moment. I reached into my bag and pulled out the document I'd been carrying since morning. My formal severance of allegiance, typed on plain paper, stripped of any sentimentality.