“The table?” Max asks.
“Custom,” Maverick replies. “Ten meters long. Solid oak from Umbria. The craftsman insisted on hand-finishing each edge. It’s currently at port waiting for final clearance.”
“And the chairs?” Bones asks dryly, pretending to care.
“Hand-carved frames,” Maverick says. “Upholstered in Italian leather from a family tannery outside Naples. I do not believe in mixing quality.”
Skip whistles low. “We’re meeting in a medieval castle built by Gucci.”
Maverick opens the door to his office.
“No,” he says smoothly. “Gucci would have cut corners.”
We step inside.
Same attention to detail. Same imported materials. Same quiet wealth.
This isn’t just a remodel.
It’s a statement.
Los Fantasmas tried to burn him down.
He rebuilt it with stone shipped across an ocean.
“And now,” Maverick says, taking his seat behind a desk carved from dark Sicilian walnut or something, “let us discuss who believes they are clever enough to set fire to my alliances.”
I glance around one more time at the imported marble, the hand-carved molding, the ridiculous wealth dripping from every corner.
Then I look at him.
“You know,” I say, gesturing lazily to his perfectly pressed, criminally expensive suit, “for someone this wealthy and powerful, you sure pull off rugged biker real well outside these walls.”
Spike snorts.
Maverick leans back slowly, one ankle resting over his knee.
“Image,” he says simply.
“That’s not an answer,” I reply.
He smiles faintly.
“It is, actually.”
He steeples his fingers.
“In my world, I am a Don. I attend galas. I sit at tables with men who control ports and politicians. I wear suits. I speak softly. I let others underestimate how much I see. I’m careful about how much I letotherssee of me.”
His gaze sharpens slightly.
“In California? I ride. I bleed. I earn loyalty face-to-face. The Shadows respect strength, not silk.”
Skip nods solemnly. “We do prefer our crime lords with a little grease under the fingernails.”
Maverick’s mouth twitches.
“A man who only wears a crown forgets how to fight,” he says calmly. “A man who only fights forgets how to rule.”
