She scoffed and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, sorry to be such an inconvenience to your psychotic mafia life.”
My jaw ticced.
She didn’t know the half of it. The bratva hadn’t just raised me—they’d branded me. Every connection I made with another person was a liability. Every soft spot was a weakness someone could exploit. Keeping myself alive? I’d mastered that. But keeping anyone close to me safe? That was damn near impossible.
I turned away and grabbed my coffee, needing the space to shut her out before I said something I would regret. But my silence only lit her fuse.
“Why the hell did you save me?” she snapped. “If I’m just a burden to you?”
I froze mid-sip, hoping she might give it up if I ignored her.
But of course, she didn’t stop.
“You’re the one who sat down at my table,” she fired back, folding her arms tight across her chest and glaring at me. “You’re the one who followed me home. You’re the one who showed up at that club like some violent vigilante.” Her voice cracked—not with fear, but with rage. “And now what? I’m just an inconvenience?”
I turned, leaned against the counter, and stared her down.
“You want the truth?”
She blinked. “Try me.”
I tilted my head. “I helped you for the same reason someone stops when they see a kitten in the road.”
That landed like a slap. Her mouth parted, but no sound came out.
“You looked lost. Out of place. And I thought—poor thing won’t last long in this city.”
Her hands curled into fists as she dropped them onto the counter. Her face twisted into stormy shock.
“You were already circling the drain, Lyla,” I said quietly. “You just didn’t know it.”
Her eyes narrowed, but I didn’t let up.
“I should’ve left you alone. Should’ve walked away and never looked back.”
Should’ve never wanted you.
I gritted my teeth and kept going. “But Delgado had already marked you. Like I said, every performance you did was afucking billboard for every rich sadist with a checkbook and a hard-on. You weren’t a dancer. You were inventory.”
There was no reason to sugarcoat my words.
“And now?” I added with a bitter smile and a huff. “Now I have to set you up with a new identity and get you the hell out of this city before someone decides to finish what Delgado started. A fresh start on the West Coast will provide the distance you need.”
She stared at me as though I’d just kicked her in the ribs.
“I’m not leaving,” she said, her voice rising. “You don’t get to make that decision for me.”
I shook my head, laughing darkly. “You want to stay? You’ll die.”
“I’dratherdie,” she shot back, “than live some sad gray life, hiding in a place I don’t belong, with no friends, no family, no future—”
“I know people there.” I scowled. “They’ll protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting,” she hissed. “I can go home to Tennessee. Mountain people protect their own.”
I stepped closer.
“No. Delgado can easily find out where you’re from using your employment information alone. He has connections everywhere. And if he finds you there, he won’t just killyou—he’ll go through your friends, your neighbors, anyone who ever looked at you sideways.”
