Page 145 of Forged

“And you expect me to do what?” I ask, my voice rising again. “Understand that? Forgive you?”

“No,” he says immediately. “I expect you to hate me for it. I expect you to walk away,” he continues, his voice softer now, breaking with sadness. “I expect you to never want to see me again. But I needed you to know the truth before it came from anyone else. Before Sera?—”

“Did you give her information about my family?”

“No. I told her I wasn’t going to finish the job,” he says. “Because I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

For just a moment, I want to believe him. I want to take thatand hold onto it and let it mean something. But he lied. And just like the people in my past, he was using me for his own gain.

“You already hurt me,” I say quietly.

The silence that follows is heavier than anything that came before it. I look at Gabriel one more time, really look at him, searching for something I recognize. Something I can hold onto. But all I see is the man who stood in front of me and told me he loved me mixed with the man who walked into my life with a mission to destroy everything I care about.

I step toward him, my face close to his. I take one last deep breath to smell him, to remember.

His chin trembles, eyes pleading. “I love you, Lars.”

I grip his chin hard enough to bruise. I search his eyes, wondering where I went wrong. Wondering how I could be so stupid. Then I release him.

“You are fucking dead to me.” Rage fills me as I speak. “What pisses me off the most is that I should have seen this coming. But you slipped right under my goddamn radar like the fucking poisonous snake that you are.”

When his tears fall faster, I shove his face away. I take one last look at him before I leave, walking out the front door, my steps the only sound echoing against the walls. I throw open the door of my car and I fucking leave.

The driveto Monarch doesn’t clear my head.

It only gives me time alone to think. To run his words over and over in my mind, making it worse.

The city stretches out in front of me in blurred streaks of light, reflections sliding across the windshield in a way that should be distracting, but nothing pulls me out of the loop running through my head. His voice keeps cutting through it, unrelenting.

I was working for Veleno.

“Of course you were,” I mutter to myself, tightening my grip on the wheel. “Of course that’s what this is.”

Trust someone. Let them in. Watch it fall apart.

The pattern doesn’t even surprise me anymore.

I pull into Monarch’s parking lot harder than I need to, the tires catching just enough to remind me I’m pushing too far, too fast. The valet moves toward me out of instinct, but one look at my face has him stopping short, his posture becoming cautious.

“I’ve got it, Mr. Marchetti,” he says quickly, taking my keys and stepping back.

The air of the club hits me the moment I step inside, bassvibrating through the floor, the scent of liquor and perfume clinging to the air. Monarch has always been predictable in its chaos, something I can walk into and know the outcome.

I stop at the bar and tell one of the waitresses to bring me a bottle of scotch to room six. I move through the crowd without stopping, ignoring the way people straighten, the way heads turn when they recognize me. None of it matters. I don’t slow down until I reach the private corridor and push open the door to VIP room six.

The same room.

The same place everything started.

I pause just inside the door, taking it in. The low light. The ghost of that first night layered over everything like an evil cloak.

The waitress comes in a few moments later with the bottle.

“I brought a few glasses if you’re expecting company, Mr. Marchetti.”

I take one, open the bottle, and begin pouring.

“Just me tonight, Lulu. You can remove the others.”