Page 81 of Mafia Kingdom

"Just the surveillance team and us," he confirms. "I've compartmentalized the information, as instructed."

"Good. Keep it that way." I turn back to the desk, my mind already mapping out potential approaches. "We need detailedplans of The Sanctuary—entry points, security systems, staff schedules. Everything."

Tony nods, understanding the implications. "I'll handle it personally."

Once he leaves, Sasha approaches, her expression troubled. "You're planning to hit them during the meeting," she says. It's not a question.

"It's our best opportunity," I explain, though I suspect she's already reached the same conclusion. "All their key people in one location. We could cripple their entire operation in a single strike."

"Or walk into another trap," she counters, echoing my own doubts. "If Gerald is feeding them information..."

"That's why only a select few will know the details," I assure her. "Tony, me, and now you. No one else."

The gravity of this inclusion—the level of trust it represents—isn't lost on her. She straightens slightly, accepting the responsibility with characteristic determination.

"What's the actual plan?" she asks, all business now.

I can’t keep sharing information with her; she will worry more.

“I’m not sure yet, but for now, Tony will track Gerald's movements," I decide. "You focus on maintaining normal appearances with Lily and Karen. I'll develop the operational details for tomorrow night."

I already know exactly how I will execute this.

I walk to Sasha and kneel down in front of her cupping her face in my hands. “If something goes wrong..." I hesitate, forcing myself to articulate the contingency we both need to acknowledge. "If something happens to me, Tony has instructions. He'll get you all to safety."

Her expression tightens, the possibility of my death clearly distressing despite her attempt at composure. "Nothing's goingto happen to you," she insists, echoing my own promise to her from days earlier.

I don't contradict her, though we both know it's a promise neither of us can guarantee. In our world, tomorrow is never certain—a reality Sasha is learning all too quickly.

"Just be careful," she adds softly. "Remember what's waiting for you here."

"I will," I promise, meaning it more deeply than any vow I've ever made. "Always."

“And I’ll let you know about your father soon,” I say, knowing I can’t ignore that conversation forever.

She isn’t exactly happy as I release her face and stand.

I need this to work tonight.

“I’ll go and check on Lily,” Sasha says.

I want her to stay; I want more time with her, but I also need to have a clear head for tonight.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Sasha

THE CLOCK READS 2:17 A.M., and I'm wide awake, staring at the ceiling while Marco sleeps beside me. His breathing is deep and even, one arm flung possessively across my waist, even in slumber. He had finally fallen asleep an hour ago, exhausted after finalizing plans for tonight's operation against the O'Reillys.

I should be sleeping, too. God knows I need it. But my mind won't quiet, racing with everything I've learned over the past twenty-four hours. Gerald's betrayal. The meeting at The Sanctuary. Marco's dangerous plan to strike back.

It's still surreal—how quickly my life has changed. Less than a month ago, I was a culinary school graduate with simple dreams: a modest catering business, a stable home for Lily, a normal life. Now, I'm lying in bed with a crime boss, actively involved in planning what amounts to a terrorist attack against a rival organization.

I should be horrified by what Marco is planning. Instead, I'm worried it might not be enough—that the O'Reillys will strike back even harder, that Gerald's betrayal runs deeper than Marco suspects, that Marco might not come home tonight.

I ease out from under Marco's arm, careful not to wake him. He needs every minute of rest he can get before tonight. Slipping on his discarded shirt from yesterday, I pad quietly to the window, staring out at the moonlit estate grounds where armed guards maintain their patrol.

My prison has become my sanctuary. My captor, the man I love. The irony isn't lost on me.

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