The validation that loving someone doesn't make me less of a leader.
"Varro's not backing off," I say. "The raids, the harassment—it's getting worse. And now I'm hearing rumors that he's looking at Ripley. Trying to build some kind of case against her."
Salvo's expression sharpens. "What kind of case?"
"Accessory, maybe. Conspiracy. I don't know the specifics, but if he can tie her to Cain's death—even tangentially—he's got leverage."
"Against you."
"Against both of us." The fear I've been suppressing rises to the surface. "She had nothing to do with what I did. But Varro doesn't care about the truth. He cares about hurting me, and she's the easiest target."
Salvo is quiet for a long moment, turning something over in his mind. "You need to get ahead of this. Document everything—her injuries, the abuse, the hospital records if there are any. Build a case that shows she was a victim, not an accomplice."
"I've been working on that. But some of it's just her word against Cain's. And Cain's not around to contradict her."
"Then find corroboration. Witnesses who saw the bruises, friends she might have confided in, anything that proves what he was doing to her." He pauses. "And find dirt on Varro. A man in his position doesn't get there without cutting corners. If he's dirty—and I'd bet my pension he is—you find the evidence and you use it."
"We've been documenting the harassment. The illegal searches, the abuse of power."
"Good. Keep doing that. Build a file so thick that if Varro tries to come after you in court, you can bury him in his own misconduct." Salvo's eyes are hard now, the old warrior surfacing beneath the retired grandfather. "This is a war, Levi. And in war, you use every weapon at your disposal."
I nod, feeling something settle in my chest. A plan. A path forward.
"One more thing," Salvo says as I stand to leave.
"What?"
"The woman. Ripley." He holds my gaze. "Does she know what she's in for? This life—our life—it's not easy on the women who love us. If she's going to stay, she needs to understand what that means."
"She knows." I think about everything Ripley has survived, everything she's overcome. "She's stronger than anyone I've ever met. Whatever comes, she can handle it."
"Good." Salvo pushes himself to his feet, leaning on his cane. "Then you've got your answer. Stop fighting yourself and start fighting for her."
He walks me to the door, his hand gripping my shoulder with surprising strength.
"You're a good Prez, Leviathan. Better than I ever was, if I'm honest. But don't let the crown become a cage." He squeezes once, then lets go. "Go home. Be with your woman. And for Christ's sake, get some sleep. You really do look like shit."
I laugh—a real laugh, the first one in what feels like weeks. "Thanks, old man."
"Anytime." He watches me walk to my bike, standing in the doorway like a sentinel. "And Levi? Don't be a stranger. Loretta misses you."
"I'll come back soon. Maybe bring Ripley to visit."
"I'd like that." A rare smile crosses his weathered face. "I'd like that a lot."
I'm halfway back to the clubhouse when my phone buzzes.
Zenon's name flashes on the screen.
I pull over, answering on the second ring. "What?"
"We've got a problem." His voice is tight. Controlled. "Varro's people just picked up Ripley."
The world stops.
"What do you mean, picked up?"
"Two plainclothes showed up at Steel Kittens about an hour ago. Said they had questions about Cain's death. Tawny tried to stall them, but they had a subpoena." He pauses. "They took her to the station for questioning."
