Page 85 of Twisted Devotion

I keep my expression blank.

“So,” I say evenly, “what do you want to let him go?”

He leans back, tapping his fingers on the desk. “What can you offer?”

I let the silence stretch between us, watching him,weighing himbefore answering.

“A cake box.”

He chuckles, but it’sforced.

“A cake box won’t do it,Paolo.” His eyes gleam with something like greed. “I need a whole basket.”

Acake boxis a few thousand dollars. Awhole basketis talkingmillions. Who thefuckdoes this man think he is?

I’m about to reply when Matteo steps into the room, leaning down to whisper in my ear. His words are quiet—but they spark a plan in my mind.

I nod once, turning my attention back to the captain. He’s still sitting there with thatsmuglook on his face like he’salready won. My eyes drift to the framed photo on his desk.

The captain, his wife, and a young girl—probably ten or eleven. They’re at the beach. Smiling. A picture-perfect family.

I lean forward slightly, resting my elbow on the arm of the chair.

“Beautiful family,” I say. The captain’s smilefalters. His fingers stop drumming on the desk. “Do they know aboutJessica?” I ask, my voice dipping just enough to let thethreatsettle in.

His entire body tenses. The color drains from his face. “My man here tells me she’s yourfavoritedancer.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” he says quickly.

I look at Matteo. “You say you have pictures?”

Matteo nods.

I turn back to the captain. His face is evenpalernow. HeknowsI’m not bluffing.

I let the moment stretch, watching him squirm under the weight of hisown secrets.

“You were saying something aboutone basket,” I tilt my head.

He swallows hard, shaking his head quickly. “A cake box will be enough.”

I stand, straightening my suit jacket. “Smart choice.”

I slap him lightly on the cheek as I step around the desk.

“Matteo will take care of the rest,” I say over my shoulder.

I leave the precinct without looking back, the cool air outside areliefagainst my skin. By the time we reach the car, Matteo is already handling the payment arrangements.

We drive back in silence, the weight of the afternoon settling into my bones. When we return to the mansion, the sun is beginning to set, streaking the sky in deep golds and reds.

I step inside.

The warmth of the houseimmediatelyreplaces the cold tension I’ve carried with me. The scent of chocolate still lingers in the air.

I’m halfway to the kitchen when I see her.

Aria.

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