Chapter 308: Bounty
CASSIAN
The office smelled exactly the same. It was that heavy blend of old wood and expensive tobacco, a scent that had soaked into the walls over decades. It was a room that had seen men beg for their lives and others give the orders to end them. It never changed, no matter what kind of blood was spilled outside.
Marceli was behind the desk. He didn’t look up when I walked in, but I knew he already knew what I’d done. The city was like his own skin; if someone poked it on the outer edge, he felt It instantly.
I didn’t sit down. I walked up to the heavy oak desk and dropped the folder right in the center.
"It’s signed," I said. "Both sides."
Marceli looked at the paper, then his eyes drifted up to mine. "And Emilio Vincenti," he said. It wasn’t a question.
I kept my mouth shut.
He leaned back in his chair, letting the silence stretch between us. He was a man who took his time deciding how he wanted his face to look before he spoke.
"Don Aldo is calling it an act of war," he said flatly. "He wants your head on a plate. And Julian’s. In that order."
"The truce is still good," I replied, keeping my voice level. "His son is breathing."
"His son needed three different doctors to put his face back together," Marceli said. A tiny movement twitched at the corner of his mouth, not quite a smile but close. "You really broke him, Cassian."
I held his gaze, refusing to blink.
Marceli stood up and walked over to the wide window that looked out over the skyline. The morning sun was just starting to hit the glass.
"You know what the Vincentis are," he said, talking more to the window than to me. "You know what they do to things when they want to hurt an enemy. They’ll go after Julian just to make you watch."
I felt my jaw lock, but I stayed perfectly still.
"I know what Emilio did," Marceli continued, turning back around. "I have ears in that building, too. I know what he tried to do to him. Both times." He paused, looking at me with hard, heavy eyes. "I also know you didn’t tell me."
"I handled it," I said.
"You did." He nodded, and for a second, he looked genuine. "It was stupid. But it was right. I won’t sit here and pretend I would have done anything different if a dog bit something that belonged to me. He touched what was mine through you two. I understand the math."
I watched him closely, keeping my guard up.
"I’ll hold Don Aldo back," Marceli said, and his voice carried the full weight of his name. "I have enough dirt on his family to keep him at the table instead of sending his shooters after you. For now. But you need to get out of here. Both of you. Take Julian and disappear until the heat dies down."
"How long?" I asked.
"As long as it takes," he said. "Get out of the city. Don’t call anyone in the family. Don’t look back. I’ll send word when it’s safe to come home."
I looked at him for a long moment. This was the man I had spent my adult life bleeding for.
He was the same man who had used Julian to keep me in line, but right now, he was the only thing standing between us and a Vincenti firing squad.
I had been raised never to trust a soul, and that rule had kept me alive this long. My gut told me to doubt him, but the years we’d spent in these rooms together carried their own weight.
"Okay," I said. "Thank you."
"Don’t thank me," Marceli said, turning back to the window. "Just get moving. And take care of him."
...
When I unlocked the apartment door, Julian was sitting on the couch. He didn’t look surprised. He always seemed to know when the world was changing before the news even reached the streets.
The second I walked through the door, his eyes scanned me from my boots to my hair, looking for red spots or torn cloth. He was checking for holes.
"Did you do it?" he asked quietly.
I opened my mouth to find an excuse, then closed it. "Julian—"
He stood up, cutting me off. "Did you do it, Cassian?"
We stood there with the space between us feeling three miles wide.
"I’m sorry," I began, but he didn’t let me finish that either.
Julian crossed the floor in three strides. His hands came up and grabbed my face, his fingers digging into my jaw, and he pulled me down into a hard, sudden kiss.
I was shocked for a heartbeat, my hands hanging in the air, but then the relief hit me and I wrapped my arms around his waist.
I pulled him against me so tight I could feel his heart hammering through his shirt.
We stood in the center of the living room, kissing like the floor was giving way beneath us, knowing this was the last time we’d ever be in this apartment.
When he finally let me breathe, he kept his forehead pressed against mine. His eyes were shut tight. "You crazy bastard," he whispered, a little helpless laugh catching in his throat.
"I can’t help it," I said.
He laughed again, a real one this time, and pulled back enough to look at me. The light from the window caught the color of his eyes.
"You really can’t, can you?" He teased. "Though I must admit, no matter how much I tried to deny it, I found it incredibly hot... That you would beat him up for me."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
We sat down on the couch together, the rush fading out of our legs. Julian pulled out a cigarette and lit it, his movements easy and relaxed.
It was the strange peace that only came to men like us after the worst had already happened.
"His father knows it was you, doesn’t he?" Julian asked, watching the smoke rise.
"There’s a bounty on us," I said. "Both of us. We need to be out of the city before the sun goes down."
Julian took a long drag, his eyes wandering over the living room, the furniture we’d bought, the small things we’d put on the shelves over the years to make it feel like a home. "Again," he said softly. It wasn’t angry. It was just a fact.
"Again," I repeated.
He stood up and dropped the cigarette into the glass ashtray. "I’ll pack light." He stopped at the hallway door and looked back at me, his face softening. "Thank you. For—"
"Don’t," I said.
He nodded once, understanding, and went into the bedroom to clear his closet.
