CYAN
The smile came back to my lips, widening slow. "There it is. You remember."
Rico took a breath, his shoulders squaring as he tried to pull the boss persona back over his skin... the effort of a man choosing his pride over his judgment because he knew his own people were watching through the glass.
"I don't have business with him anymore," he said, his voice rising into a manufactured hardness.
"Tell him I'm not interested in whatever he has to say and especially not his…"
He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my throat, then my hair, a cruel, deliberate sneer forming on his mouth.
"…not his pet."
I tilted my head, completely unbothered by the weight of the word. "I want information on Marceli Lorenzo. His movements. His meetings. Everything you have."
Rico let out a short, harsh laugh. "You think I have access to a man like Lorenzo? I'm small fish in this district, Cyan. He doesn't even know my name."
