Forty-Five

I paced back and forth in my living room, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was already eight in the evening, and Luciano still hadn't returned home. Impatience gnawed at me, and I couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and frustration. I wanted to see him, to be near him, and that thought both excited and terrified me.

My feet stopped abruptly, and I glared a the ceiling above me. What was I doing yearning for a man I most likely would have to kill before he killed me first? What sort of twisted shit was that?

I reminded myself, once again, of my purpose. I was here as a spy, gathering information to bring Luciano to justice. My mission was clear, and my allegiance lay with the law.

Okay, maybe I didn't give a fuck about the law, but my allegiance lay with me, with Frederick, who I owed so much. With the innocent lives taken over the years, no thanks to Luciano and his gang of misfits.

4

But as the minutes ticked by, I couldn't deny the unsettling truth in the depths