“About control,” I replied. “About making sure whatever happened next didn’t spiral.”
She went still. Not confused. Tracking.
“You were already part of it,” she concluded.
“Yes.”
“How involved?” she asked.
“I told him Dunn only understands consequences,” I answered. “He agreed.”
Her throat moved slightly. “And Ed’s stepbrother, Dominick?”
“He doesn’t posture,” I said. “He positions.”
Mila studied me. “So this isn’t just a warning parked at the curb.”
“No.”
Silence stretched between us.
“You escalated,” she said quietly.
“I calculated,” I corrected. The word sounded cleaner than it felt.
Her eyes didn’t leave mine. “Those aren’t the same thing.”
“No,” I agreed. “They’re not.”
Another pause.
“And if Dunn pushes anyway?” she asked.
“Then Dominick pushes back.”
No bravado or drama—just fact.
Her breathing slowed, and I felt the tension ease from her shoulders.
“You should’ve told me sooner,” she said.
“I should have,” I admitted.
That was it. There wasn’t a speech, just ownership.
Mila stared at the quad again, as if the grass could offer answers. “Edwardo warned me to stay where he could see me.”
“I would have told you to do the same,” I admitted.
She turned back. “And you didn’t tell me any of this yesterday because…?”
I hadn’t wanted to see fear in her eyes. I hadn’t wanted her to picture men in suits and quiet violence and doors that didn’t open again. Once you named something, it became real.
“I wanted it handled before you had to worry about it,” I replied. “And I didn’t know how you’d take it.”
Mila’s throat moved. “Blindsided,” she whispered. Then, steadier, “But I don’t feel betrayed.”
I shifted closer, lowering my voice. “I’m not keeping you in the dark.”
