He doesn’t deny it. “Lorenzo is escalating pressure across multiple fronts. Warehouse raids, frozen shipping routes,political distance from senators we’ve protected for years. It’s strategic destabilization designed to force concessions.”
“Concessions like handing me over.”
“That’s not happening.” His voice hardens. “Your protection is accelerating conflict that was already brewing.”
The admission lands heavier than expected. I knew marrying Felix would complicate things, knew that refusing Sartore’s solution would create problems.
“This is my fault,” I say quietly.
“This is Lorenzo’s fault for trying to eliminate someone under my protection.” Felix straightens, moving around the desk toward me. “They were circling long before you opened Ethan’s files. You just gave them an excuse to move openly.”
“An excuse that’s costing you. Warehouses, senators, shipping routes; how much are you losing because you won’t give me up?”
Something flickers in his pale eyes. “Less than I’d lose if I did.”
The statement hangs between us, weighted with implications I’m not ready to examine. He’s choosing me over operational stability, over political alliances, over the careful balance he’s spent years building with Sartore interests.
It’s destroying everything he’s worked for.
“You should let me go.” The words come out before I fully decide to say them. “Stage my death, tell Lorenzo you handled it, stop the bleeding before this escalates into something worse.”
Felix goes very still. When he speaks, his voice is dangerously quiet. “Is that what you want?”
“I want Ethan back. I want none of this to have happened. I want—” My voice breaks despite my effort to keep it steady. “I want to stop being the reason people are suffering.”
“You’re not the reason. Lorenzo is.” He closes the distance between us, stopping close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “He could accept that you’re protected and move on. Instead, he’s choosing escalation because he thinks pressure will make me fold.”
“Will it?”
“No.”
The certainty in his tone should reassure me. Instead, it makes everything worse. Felix is willing to watch his operations crumble, to lose political capital and financial stability, to start a war he might not win—all to keep me alive.
I don’t know how to carry that responsibility.
“Guards have doubled,” I say, deflecting. “Vehicles rotate constantly. The perimeter feels tighter every day. You’re preparing for something.”
“I’m preparing for Lorenzo to stop playing games and move directly.” Felix’s jaw tightens. “War in this world isn’t loud. It’s anonymous tips that trigger federal raids. It’s senators who suddenly can’t return calls. It’s shipments that disappear between ports, and it’s expensive. Right now you’re the variable he thinks he can use to destabilize me.”
“Then give him what he wants.”
“I already told you—that’s not happening.”
Frustration ignites hot and sharp. “You’re being stubborn. You’re sacrificing everything because you—what? You decided I’m worth more than warehouses and political alliances? You’re obsessed.”
His expression darkens. “Maybe I am.”
The admission stops me cold. We stare at each other, breathing hard, the air between us charged with anger and something far more volatile.
“You dragged me into this,” I say, shoving at his chest with both hands. “You could have let Sartore take me that night in the van. Could have walked away and let them handle it. Instead you pulled me out and brought me here and married me and now you’re losing everything because you won’t admit this was a mistake.”
Felix catches my wrists before I can shove him again. “You stepped into this the moment you opened Ethan’s files. I just gave you a chance to survive it.”
“By trapping me here? By making me your wife so I’m too valuable to kill?” Tears burn behind my eyes, fury and guilt tangling together. “How is that better than dying?”
“Because you’re alive.” His grip tightens on my wrists, pulling me closer until we’re pressed together. “You’re here, breathing, fighting me at every turn instead of buried beside your brother. That’s better.”
The rawness in his voice cracks something open inside me. I wrench against his hold one more time, and this time he releases my wrists.
