Page 105 of Auctioned to the Mafia Don
“Leon’s men aren’t watching the estate because they admire the landscaping.”
“No.”
He exhales through his nose. “You are taking Maya to Boston, leaving the twins under tighter guard, and walking into a meeting with a man who knows enough to be dangerous but not enough to understand how badly he has already lost.”
“That was not criticism.”
“It should have been.”
I let the silence sit.
Omar has earned the right to speak plainly in this room. He is not fearless. He knows better than anyone that fear keeps men alive when arrogance would get them killed. But he also knows the difference between fear and obedience, and he has never confused one for the other.
He steps closer to the desk.
“What happens if Raven gets Leon alive?”
The question is quiet.
I look down at the tablet again. At the grainy image of a man standing near my gates, watching a house where two children sleep under my protection, and a woman who should have remained a complication has become something far more dangerous.
A weakness. A choice. His expression doesn’t change, but the accusation remains beneath it. Not whether I gave Maya an answer. Whether I intend to honor the one she asked for.
“I promised she would get Leon.”
“That is not the same as promising he survives it.”
“No.”
There it is.
The part of the plan he has waited to hear aloud.
Omar has no sympathy for Leon. He knows what men like him do when they have enough money to buy silence and enough pride to call cruelty a birthright. This is not about protecting Leon from the consequences he earned.
It is about Maya. Leon is not only a threat to the plan now; he is a threat to the woman who asked for justice and is about to stand in the same room with him.
“She will not forgive you,” he says.
“I am aware.”
“You aren’t.” His voice sharpens. “You think this is another price you can pay after the fact. You make the decision. You accept the fallout. Then you decide whether losing her was worth whatever you gained.”
I say nothing.
Because he is not entirely wrong.
Omar turns toward the window, where the first pale light has begun to show between the trees. “You have been careful with her until now.”
“Have I?”
“You have been possessive. Controlling. Irritating beyond reason.” His eyes return to mine. “But careful.”
The word sits badly.
Still, I see Maya in my room before dawn, tears on her face as she told me about Alice. I remember the weight of her forehead against my chest afterward. The way she chose comfort even while hating that she wanted it.
I remember the exact moment I decided Leon would never see the inside of a courtroom.
