His smile disappears. “Then that little apartment you have will burn down and I’ll make sure you never leave this house again. That closetdownstairs? It’ll be your permanent residence. And those little friends of yours—Ricky, Kay, Jace, Santi?” He pauses, lets the names hang in the air like nooses. “Accidents happen.”
My blood runs cold.
He can’t know.
There’s no way.
“Don’t bring them into this,” I say softer than I mean to.
He smirks, cruel. “That little found family of yours will hang from the rafters of this house if you don’t comply Ayla. Do you got that?”
I stare up at him, hatred burning so hot in my chest I can barely breathe.
I want to spit in his face. Want to grab the letter opener on his desk and drive it through his eye.
But I can’t.
Because he’s got me.
I nod slowly, trying to breathe through the fire crawling up my throat. “Fine.”
He watches me for a beat too long, then leans back.
“I don’t believe you,” he says, cool as ever. “So I’m sending my men with you.”
“I don’t need babysitters, Gabe.”
He pulls out his gun. Points it right at me. The click of the safety disengaging is louder than it should be.
“I told you not to call me that.”
My hands clench in my lap. I grind my teeth together and make myself speak. “I’m sorry.”
It burns all the way out of my throat. Tastes like acid. Likeweakness.
He smirks. “Good. You do good, you don’t die.”
I stand. My legs feel heavy, but I move. I always move.
“Okay.”
I turn for the door.
“One more thing,” Gabriel calls, like it’s an afterthought.
My shoulders tense. I don’t turn around.
“If you don’t show up tonight… I’ll start with your favorite one, Santi.”
My blood goes cold. “You can’t hurt Santi,” I snap. “You and Arsen have a truce.”
He chuckles—low and sharp, like a knife dragged across a whetstone.
“Yeah,” he says, “and Arsen doesn’t give a fuck about Santi. He’s a half-sibling. Just. Like. You.”
I clench my fists so hard my nails bite into my palms.
“You’re not untouchable, Ayla,” he murmurs, almost tender. “None of you are.”
