(SANTINO’S POV)

I lean my head back against the cool, buttery leather of the car’s headrest, closing my eyes for a moment to let the heavy silence of the car wash over me as the driver sped towards the house.

The air conditioning hums at a perfect, chilled temperature, moving the scent of expensive hide and hand-polished mahogany around the cabin.

My side feels tight, a dull heavy ache that serves as a constant reminder of the lead I took for her.

Next to me, my mother is a whirlwind of ...