The door creaked open, and Lorenzo didn’t look up. His voice cut through the air, low and sharp.

"You’re late."

He set his untouched whiskey down with a deliberate clink, finally turning his piercing gaze on them. "Do you have any idea how close you came to ruining everything tonight? Or do you gamble with your life as carelessly as you do with your money?"

Rising slowly, he approached the window, his back to them. "You think luck is enough to keep you alive. It’s not. One day, your luck will run out, tesoro. And when it does…"

He trailed off, glancing over his shoulder, his expression hard. "Don’t make me bury my star."