Edoardo stepped between us, his expression the picture of composed reason. One hand went to his tie, straightening it with a practiced tug. "Nara, don't be rash."
"The Castellano crew was always a small, unremarkable outfit. Massimo spent his entire life trying to make it flourish and never could. What chance would we have?"
"Besides, all of us have been made now. Isn't that a glory the crew can be proud of?"
He reached out and took hold of my arm.
"Come now, be good. I'll take you to see the Boss. I'll make sure you get a fine position in the organization..."
But before the last word left his mouth, my stiletto was already buried in his chest.
Edoardo never even had time to react. He crumpled to the ground, eyes wide and glassy, dead before he hit the stone.
Every Valente soldier in the vicinity went rigid with shock. Weapons cleared leather, all trained on me.
Rosalia stumbled back two steps, her face white. "Nara, what kind of cursed thing are you holding?!"
She asked because Edoardo had already been made. The protection of the Valente name shielded him.
An ordinary blade couldn't have gotten within arm's reach before a dozen soldiers cut you down.