Page 112 of Jayson
There’s that name again. Of course it’s Maddox.
“He didn’t take it well when you refused his request. He wants the girl back.”
“The girl,” I grit out, “doesn’t even know who the fuck he is.”
“He framed it differently to us. Painted it like she was stolen property. Like he had unfinished business.” Emilio exhales through his nose.
Rage starts low—at the base of my spine—and crawls up like a sickness. My hand tightens on the edge of the counter until my knuckles go white.
“But you turned him down,” I say.
“We did,” Emilio confirms. “But don’t think for a second he’s letting it go. He’ll find another crew. He’s got money, reach, and desperation on his side. You know what that makes him.”
“Dangerous,” I mutter. “And unpredictable.”
I know men like Maddox. I’ve broken them. I’ve buried them. He won’t kick the door down. He’ll shoot the hinges off.
I exhale through my teeth and stare at the glowing screen like I can see the bastard’s face on the other side.
“You’re telling me this as a courtesy?” My voice is ice, dead calm in the silence.
“I am,” Emilio says. “Because we go back. We’ve spilled blood and broken bread. And whatever debts we owed Maddox died the moment he asked us to cross you.”
“What’s it costing you?”
“A hell of a lot of blowback. But loyalty matters. The Gatti alliance holds weight. We’re not jeopardizing that over a commissioner who’s better off on a leash.”
I grunt. “Careful, Cavalho. That dog’s been off-leash for a while. And he’s foaming at the mouth now.”
There’s a low chuckle on the line, but there’s no real humor in it. Just the sound of a man who knows he might’ve signed a death warrant by refusing Maddox.
“You don’t make a move like this unless the girl’s a threat,” I say. “He wants her silenced. That tells me she knows something. Or worse—someone else knows she knows.”
“Which means he won’t stop,” Emilio agrees. “He’ll make this loud if he has to.”
Because men like Maddox don’t go down easy. They don’t mind collateral damage. As long as they’re not the ones holding the knife when the press gets wind of it.
“You need anything from us?” Emilio asks.
“No,” I say, cold steel in my tone. “Just see to your house. I’ll take care of mine.”
Because war’s coming. And I’ve already picked out the place I’ll bury him.
The call ends, but war doesn’t wait for polite goodbyes. AndEmilio’s absolution? It lands like rain after the fire’s already devoured the house.
I knew. My gut knew. The second that phone buzzed across the marble like a dying insect, I felt it deep in my bones—that something foul had already been set in motion. Because men like Maddox only make their move when they’re out of options. Because cornered men are a different breed of dangerous.
A desperate man will set the world on fire just to warm his trembling hands. He’ll chew through friends, favors, entire bloodlines if he thinks it might buy him a breath of air. And truth? Truth is the dirtiest corner of all. It strips power down to the bone, leaves men exposed, teeth bared, ego bleeding.
Maddox isn’t stupid. But intelligence means jack shit when a man’s kingdom is crumbling and the last thread holding it together is a girl he can’t control.
Keira’s not just a witness—she’s a threat, and that terrifies a man like Maddox.
She remembers. She knows things he can't bury. And worst of all? She doesn’t belong to him. She belongs to Jayson now. Which means she’s family.
And family? That’s my goddamn line in the sand.
So if Maddox is going to move, he’ll do it soon—before the Cavalhos cut him loose, before the leash tightens, before the storm we all feel in our bones breaks wide open.
