There was only one person who had the authority to do that.
Salvatore.
I paused for a second, staring at the screen.
Then I pulled out my phone.
I sent him a message.
No response.
I called.
The call didn't even go through.
Blocked.
Messenger.
Blocked.
Everything. Every possible way of reaching him, gone.
I stood there for a moment, completely still.
Stunned.
But only for a moment.
Then I exhaled slowly.
I smoothed the edge of my skirt until the crease was sharper than anything I could bring myself to say.
Picked up my bag. Packed the last of my things. Cleared every trace of myself from what I could still access in the system.
And walked out.
No hesitation.
No looking back.
Past the associates who wouldn't meet my eyes. Past the corridor where a soldier held the door open for me with the careful neutrality of a man who had already chosen whose name to forget. Past the front entrance of the Bellomo social club, where the awning cast its shadow over the sidewalk like a territory line.
I didn't go home.
I went straight to the airport.
