And then she appeared behind him. Dulcie. Wearing one of my ruby necklaces like a trophy, sipping wine like it was her blood ritual.
“Oh Dani Bestie,” she purred into the mic. “Just because you escaped your cage doesn’t mean you’re free to roam. We just went out for a quick dinner… with Daddy. You broke the rules.”
She leaned closer to the screen, eyes gleaming.
“His eyes are still open, you know. Very dramatic.”
I screamed and threw the laptop across the room.
Salvatore caught it midair before it hit the floor. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the last frozen frame of Reagan and Dulcie, grinning like wolves.
“…I’m going to kill them,” he said flatly.
His calm terrified me more than their threats.
That night, I curled into a corner of the safehouse bunker. Sal’s men posted outside like sentinels. The hard drive was locked in a steel case, guarded by a man who had once burned a cartel alive for touching his sister.
Reagan put a bounty on my head the next morning. Five million.
Posters. Hacked databases. Underworld whispers.
The name “Danica De Santis” became cursed.