She raises her eyebrows. “Isn’t it obvious?” she asks. “I didn’t want you to die. And trust me, Luciobaby, you would have died if I hadn’t stepped in.”
“My death would have made things simpler for you.”
She shrugs. “Not necessarily. An all-out mafia war wouldn’t have benefited anyone.”
“How were you even able to stop the match?” I ask. “Why would they listen to you?”
“Surprised at how much influence I have in these circles, Lucio?” she asks.
She’s glowing with hidden pride.
I feel like I understand less and less about what’s happening with each passing second.
Anger swirls in her brown eyes for a moment.
“I was always an asset,” she hisses at me, her air of amused detachment falling by the wayside for amoment. “Always. You just never saw it.”
“If this is about a personal vendetta,
