Page 191 of Malicious Claim

But more pressing than any of them... Nicolai.

He knew too much. He knew everything.

If he so much as whispered half of what he knew in Makros' ear, the delicate web she was weaving would fall apart.

She had three choices:

Side with Nicolai and Vincenzo, destroy Makros and follow through with her revenge.

Forgo the entire revenge plot, settle into this life, try to coexist with Makros and survive. Or... burn it all. Side with no one. Destroy every single player and build her empire from the ashes.

That last one sounded most appealing.

But she still wasn't sure.

Somewhere between these thoughts, she fell asleep on the couch.

When she woke, the factory was quiet again. Work was over.

She collected her things, picked up the folded note, and stepped out. At the bottom of the stairs, she spotted Kim ending a call.

"Signora Leila," Kim greeted. "Makros just left."

"Of course he did," Leila muttered, not surprised. "Please see that these changes are made in my office as soon as possible."

"Sure thing," Kim replied, taking the note with a nod.

Outside in the lot, Enzo stood by a sleek black car, spinning the keys like it was just another day. He saw her approach and pressed the button to unlock the doors.

"Signora," he said, opening the door.

Leila slid in, watching him circle around to the driver's side. The second he got in, she noticed his eyes flicker to the rearview mirror.

Again.

"What is it with that look?" she asked sharply.

Enzo blinked. "What look?"

"That look," she snapped. "Like you're trying to figure out if I'm worth driving around."

Enzo gave a crooked grin. "Sheesh, no. It's just... you got shot at yesterday. And today? You're sitting there like it was just a coffee stain on your jacket."

"Why is everyone treating that like a big deal?"

"Because it is a big deal," he said, surprisingly sincere. "Coming close to death isn't something you just brush off."

Leila looked out the window, quiet. Her arm still ached beneath the bandage. The real wound wasn't physical—it was the paranoia, the constant looking over her shoulder, wondering when someone would come to collect the blood debt.

She reached into her bag, fingers brushing the cool steel of the gun.

Just in case.

Chapter Seventy-One

Spoiling Her Silly.

Makros asked Nicolai to take him to the Bronx Hotel after work.

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