Lahat ng Kabanata ng Buried Beneath Sin: Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

Her phone—the one that belonged to her father’s world—buzzed once with a message from Mazzo: Tonight. 8. Wear red. She typed No and then deleted it and replaced it with Headache. Tomorrow because self-preservation is sometimes indistinguishable from politeness. She muted their thread for eight hours

Blue, then. She laid it on the bed and felt a small thrill that had nothing to do with fashion and everything to do with agency. Petty? Yes. Petty like a blade you can hide in a glove. She set the heels beside it—sensible-by-this-house’s-standards—and placed her jewelry with the precision of a wom

Mazzo’s arm tightened again. “One more,” he said, as if drinks could be counted into commitment. “Then I’ll take you home.” Of course you will, she thought, and took a polite sip of the second glass. Her phone buzzed under the table—her father’s, not the other—and she didn’t need to look to know i

Nico scanned the room the way a thief checks for cameras. Two men at the bar had the posture of watchers without the discipline; their eyes slid and returned too quickly. A woman at a corner table watched the door as if she were waiting for someone who would not arrive. The busboy moved like a worke

Rocco’s sedan turned on a breath. They slotted in two cars back and one lane over. Nico kept his posture lazy enough to be invisible. He watched the red pulse of tail lights, the reflected neon, the way the city liked to make itself into jewelry when it thought it was being watched. He dialed down t