Chapter 95 -
The door opened without warning. No knock. No courtesy. Just the sudden intrusion of Leo’s presence filling the space like smoke.
Nia was at the window, still watching the last traces of purple fade from the sky. She turned at the sound, her heart jumping into her throat before she could stop it. Three days she had been hiding in this room. Three days since she had seen him face to face instead of just hearing his voice through the door or smelling tobacco lingering in the hallway after he passed.
He looked terrible.
That was Nia’s first thought, quickly followed by anger at herself for caring. But she could not help noticing the shadows under his eyes that looked like bruises, the stubble darkening his jaw, the wrinkled state of his usually pristine shirt. His hair was disheveled, falling across his forehead in a way that would have been endearing if Nia had been in any mood to find Leo DeSanto endearing.
“You did not knock,” Nia said. Her voice came out steadier than she felt, which was a small victory.
“No,” Leo agreed. He stayed by the door, one hand still on the knob like he was ready to bolt at any second. “I did not.”
“Most people knock before entering someone’s room,” Nia continued. She turned back to the window, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his presence affected her. “It is called basic courtesy.”
“You are my prisoner,” Leo said flatly. “Prisoners do not get courtesy.”
The words stung more than they should have. More than Nia wanted to admit. She wrapped her arms around herself, staring hard at the darkening grounds outside.
“What do you want, Leo?”
Silence. Long enough that Nia almost turned around to see if he had left. But then he spoke, his voice carefully controlled in that way that meant he was fighting to keep emotion out of it.
“I have news,” he said.
“About the deadline?” Nia asked. Her stomach twisted. “Did the Don move it up? Am I being taken tonight instead of in five days?”
“No,” Leo said. “It is about Alex.”
Nia went very still. She had not heard that name in days. Had been trying very hard not to think about her ex-boyfriend who had somehow gotten her tangled up in a murder investigation and a criminal organization she had no business being anywhere near.
“What about him?” she asked quietly.
“We found him,” Leo said. Each word came out measured, professional, like he was delivering a report instead of news that would change Nia’s life. “This morning. In a warehouse on the east side.”
Nia’s hands tightened on her arms, nails digging into skin through the thin fabric of her sweater. “Found him how? Is he in custody? Did you arrest him? Is he going to tell the Don that I had nothing to do with any of this?”
“Nia.” Leo said her name like a warning. Like he was trying to prepare her for something she did not want to hear.
“What?” she demanded. She spun around to face him properly, needing to see his expression. Needing to understand what he was not saying. “What happened?”
Leo’s jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists at his sides. When he spoke again, his voice was even flatter than before. Emptier.
“Alex is gone.”
The words did not make sense. Nia stared at Leo, trying to process them, trying to understand what he meant. Gone where? Gone into hiding? Gone to another city, another country, somewhere the Cimmera could not reach him?
“Gone?” she repeated. “You mean he escaped? He ran?”
“No,” Leo said. He met her eyes directly, and Nia saw something flicker across his face. Something that might have been sympathy if she let herself believe he was capable of feeling it. “I mean he is dead.”
The room tilted.
Nia felt the floor shift beneath her feet, felt gravity pull at her in the wrong direction. She grabbed for the windowsill behind her, needing something solid to hold onto while the world spun.
“Dead,” she said. The word felt foreign in her mouth. Too big. Too final. “Alex is dead.”
“Yes,” Leo confirmed.
“You are sure?” Nia asked. Her voice sounded strange to her own ears, distant and disconnected like it belonged to someone else. “You are absolutely certain it was him?”
“We are certain,” Leo said. “Dental records confirmed it. It is Alex Navarro.”
Nia sank onto the window seat, her legs giving out. Alex was dead. The man she had dated for a year, the man she had loved, the man who had broken her heart by leaving her for Jordan. Dead.
“How?” she asked.
“Does it matter?” Leo said.
“Yes,” Nia said sharply. “It matters. How did he die?”
Leo was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Gunshot. Single bullet to the head. Professional hit.”
Professional. The word echoed in Nia’s mind. Someone had killed Alex. Not an accident, not a random act of violence, but a deliberate, calculated murder.
“Who?” Nia demanded. “Who killed him?”
“We do not know yet,” Leo said. “We are investigating.”
“Was it you?” The question came out before Nia could stop it. “Did you kill him?”
Leo’s eyes went cold. “No.”
“But you would have,” Nia said. It was not a question. “If you had found him alive, if you had gotten the chance, you would have killed him for what he supposedly did to Andrea.”
“Yes,” Leo said simply. No hesitation. No apology. “I would have.”
The honesty of it was somehow worse than a lie would have been. Nia pressed her hands against her face, trying to process everything. Alex was dead. Someone had killed him before Leo could. And she was sitting here in this mansion, a prisoner of the man who had just admitted he would have murdered her ex-boyfriend without a second thought.
“When?” she asked through her fingers. “When did he die?”
“The coroner estimates three days ago,” Leo said. “Maybe four. The body was not in good condition.”
Three or four days ago. While Nia had been hiding in this room, counting tally marks and avoiding dinner and pretending her biggest problem was a rejected kiss, Alex had been lying dead in a warehouse.
“Does this change anything?” Nia asked. She lowered her hands, looking at Leo properly. “For me, I mean. Does this change the Don’s ultimatum?”
Leo’s expression did not shift. “No.”