CALESTINO

“1201 S. Bellmont Avenue. Penthouse 12B.”

I read it out loud for the third time, like the words might rearrange themselves if I stared hard enough. My grip tightened around my phone until the screen creaked. My heart was trying to tear its way out of my ribs.

I killed the engine and stepped into the cool night air, pulling my cap low. The building rose in front of me—glass, steel, money. Cold and untouchable. Penthouse level.

Of course.

Lorenzo had always liked height. Liked looking down on people. The devil always did like the top floor.

Six years. That was how long it had been since he’d vanished...