A low voice spoke through the earpiece, too quiet for me to make out.

But Romano’s posture changed instantly. He braced his legs.

“He’s lying to you, kid,” Romano said, his voice booming over the storm. “Finish it.”

Marcus looked torn, his eyes darting between his uncle and the enforcer.

“He has the proof on him,” Marcus muttered, his voice losing its sharp edge.

“There is no proof, because I didn’t do it,” Vincenzo said.

He took a slow, painful step forward.

“Stay back!” Marcus yelled, his finger tightening on the trigger.

“If you’re going to shoot me, do it looking me in the eyes,” Vincenzo said.

He didn’t reach for his weapon.

His hands were open, wet with rain, held out at his sides.

“But you should know,” Vincenzo continued, “Tony is listening to us right now.”

He pointed at the radio on Romano’s collar.

“That line goes straight to Tony’s office,” Vincenzo said.

Romano’s hand twitched toward his holster.

I shifted my weight, preparing to draw.

If Romano raised his gun, I had to fire.

But that would blow my cover entirely.