Page 56 of Possessive Sinner
"Exactly." I nod, watching the flashing lights disappear into the distance. "He's not just looking for information. He's testing us. Pushing. Waiting to see where we crack."
"And you think we won't?" Massimo asks.
I huff a quiet laugh. "Oh, we will. Just not the way he expects."
A pause. I can feel his attention sharpen through the line.
"Go on," he encourages.
I lean my forearms against the cool stone of the balcony railing, eyes still on the city.
"We give him what he wants," I suggest. "Or at least… what he thinks he wants."
"Rivas," Massimo sounds doubtful.
I shake my head. "No. He's too small. Too obvious. The Collector didn't build whatever this is by trusting loose ends like him."
"Agreed."
"So we use him differently," I continue. "We squeeze him. Feed him just enough to make him useful. See where it leads."
Massimo exhales. "The Collector is too smart for that."
I smirk. "Yeah. He is. Or…" I let it hang for a second. Massimo doesn't bite, so I spell it out. "We make him think we suspect Alessio or Damiano."
We've talked about the possibility before. Massimo hums low. Thinking. Calculating.
"And use one of them as bait," he finishes.
I know Massimo well enough to know he likes the idea as little as I do. His mind is already ten steps ahead, running scenarios. So am I. It's risky.
High-risk.
High-reward.
Exactly the kind of move that gets people killed.
"Not bad, Gabe," he admits finally.
I grin faintly. "Yeah."
The grin fades just as fast. Because I know exactly what this means. One of my best buddies will enter a deadly game. We're all in danger, all the time, but this feels different. Whatever we do, we cannot underestimate the fucking Collector. He's more dangerous than anything we've faced in years. Alessio or Damiano. I don't like it. Not one fucking bit.
But I also know those two; they won't just agree. They'll enjoy it.
"They'll hold a contest to see who'll do the honors." Massimo chuckles.
"Yeah." I agree. Shaking my head. Fuckers.
"Either way," Massimo changes the subject back to Salazar. "I now have a cartel boss calling me, demanding retribution for men you killed."
"They took civilians," I say. "They were operating on our ground."
"I'm not arguing the justification," Massimo snaps. "I'm telling you the consequence."
I let that settle. Because he's right. This isn't about right or wrong. It's about power. It always is. And perception.
"So now what?" I ask.
