Page 56 of Mafia Kingdom

Marco nods, swirling the amber liquid thoughtfully. "Lucas and I grew up fighting—for attention, for approval, for power. But we always had each other's backs when it mattered. At least, I thought we did."

He downs the whiskey in one swallow, the movement making him wince slightly. I suspect he has injuries beyond the visible bruises.

"Danny's funeral is tomorrow morning," he continues, his voice carefully controlled. "After that, we'll discuss getting Lily. I give you my word."

“What about today?” I ask.

His jaw tightens. "Things have changed. The situation is…more complicated than I initially thought."

"Complicated how?" I press, sensing there's something significant he's not telling me.

Marco sets his empty glass down with deliberate care. "You and Lily may have been targeted specifically."

Fear coils in my stomach. "Targeted? By who? Why?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." He runs a hand through his hair, a rare display of uncertainty. "Until I know for sure, the safest place for both of you is here, under my protection."

"So, I'm still a prisoner." I can't keep the bitterness from my voice.

Marco crosses the room in three long strides, kneeling before my chair so we're eye to eye. "No. Not a prisoner." His hands cup my face, surprisingly gentle despite the violencethey're capable of. "But I need you to trust me just a little longer."

The sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to breathe. This close, I can see the flecks of gold in his brown irises, the tiny scar above his left eyebrow, the tension in the muscles of his jaw.

"I'll try," I whisper, knowing it's the most honest answer I can give.

Relief flashes across his face. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against mine in an oddly intimate gesture. "Thank you."

We stay like that for a moment, suspended in this fragile truce. Then Marco pulls back, his mask of control sliding back into place.

"You'll have more freedom," he says, his tone businesslike again. "You can move around the estate, use the facilities, the gardens. But there will always be guards nearby."

It's not freedom, not really. But it's a step in the right direction. "And after the funeral tomorrow? After we get Lily?"

Marco stands, creating distance between us. "One thing at a time, Sasha."

Before I can argue, a knock at the door interrupts us. Tony enters, his expression grave.

"Boss, we've got a situation downtown. That thing we discussed earlier..." His eyes flick to me, then back to Marco. "It's happening now."

Marco nods, instantly alert. "I'll be right there." He turns back to me, his expression softening slightly. "We'll continue this conversation later."

"Marco—" I start, but he cuts me off with a quick, hard kiss that leaves me breathless.

"Stay inside. Please." There's that word again, so rare from his lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Then he's gone, leaving me alone with Buddy and the lingering taste of whiskey on my lips. I sink back into the chair, emotionally exhausted.

Tomorrow, we'll attend Danny's funeral. Tomorrow, we'll discuss getting Lily. Tomorrow, perhaps, I'll finally understand what I've stumbled into—and whether there's any way out that doesn't end in heartbreak or bloodshed.

Buddy lays his head on my knee, his warm eyes offering silent comfort. I scratch behind his ears, finding solace in his simple devotion while myheart remains hopelessly tangled in the web Marco Walsh has woven around me.

Outside, the sky darkens with approaching storm clouds, a fitting backdrop to the turmoil brewing both within and around us. I can feel it—something significant is shifting, forces are aligning, and I'm caught in the center of a storm I barely comprehend.

Whatever happens next, I know with a bone-deep certainty that nothing will ever be the same again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Marco

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