(SANDRA'S POV)
I sweep my gaze around the living room.
Valentino suddenly finds the floor fascinating. Raffaele leans back in his seat, his arms crossed, jaw clenched. Angelo stares at the ceiling like divine intervention might save him. Leo clears his throat. Bruno scratches the back of his neck. Michele pretends he's busy checking something on his phone.
Not a single one of them meets my eyes.
Of course they don't.
"Guys, come on," I say, planting my hands on my hips. "For this mission to work, one of you has to go with Krystal."
They exchange looks with each other. Small head shakes. Micro expressions of dread. But not one volunteer.
"You cannot be serious right now," I say. "We're talking about six grown men acting like I just asked you to walk naked on the streets."
Still none of them say anything.
Krystal exhales slowly beside Valentino.
"This is ridiculous," she says. "You're all trained killers. You've infiltrated worse places than a strip club."
