His grip was not tight. Not yet. But on the inside I was weary he could choke me to death.
"Seriously, in public?" I teased. "Got no respect for your union?"
"What the fuck are you people still staring at? You heard the lady, go fetch me the spy and bring me his head!"
They turned to leave immediately.
Makros returned his gaze to me, and I knew he would be observing me that much more closely now.
Chapter Forty One
A Date to Remember
MAKROS'S POV
The photo of my shooter sat in the center of my desk, now a tangible copy.
We had caught a small, inconspicuous detail—the ring on his finger. A simple band, worn and unadorned at first glance, but on closer inspection, it held the only clue to the man who had tried to kill me.
I leaned back in my chair, drumming an impatient rhythm on the table with my fingers. Dragon crossed his arms over his chest, his face impassive, standing opposite me.
"The design is one of a kind," he said finally, his voice laced with a tone of certainty. "It's custom made."
I picked up the photo, my eyes scanning the ring's details. There were some unique markings, and the initials E.B.
"Where do you think it was made?"
Dragon puffed out air. "There's a jeweler in Venice who sells one-of-a-kind pieces to discreet patrons. Crime lords, politicians, senior officials. If this ring was ordered there, we can follow it."
I gripped the photo tighter. "Then go. Follow up on whoever ordered it."
Dragon nodded curtly, already turning on his heel.
But before he could take a step, I addressed him again.
"Oh, and Dragon—not so fast."
He halted in his stride, then spun around, an eyebrow raised.
I steepled my fingers against my chin, observing him for a moment before continuing.
"Tell me again what you did when you got to Dimitri's last known location."
There was a flicker of hesitation. It was fleeting—almost unnoticeable, but it was there.
"You read the report," he said bluntly. "I arrived at the apartment at 3:27 AM. It was deserted."
I remained silent.
He was censoring himself, choosing his words.
"You hesitated," I told him.
Dragon's expression never changed, but his stance changed, weight redistributing on the balls of his feet.
"No, I didn't."
"You did," I said.
