Page 81 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

Come see me tomorrow. We’ll discuss the boy.

The room tilts around me. Every sound disappears except the blood beating hard behind my ears.

Aleksander stands. “What’s wrong?”

“My father wants to see me.”

“Did he say why?”

I read the message again.

The boy.

Not his name. Never his name.

Just another piece on Papa’s board.

I could lie. The instinct arrives automatically, built through years of protecting the things that mattered from a man who believed knowledge meant ownership.

Instead, I hold out the phone.

Aleksander takes it. His expression doesn’t change as he reads. He hands it back without comment.

I wait for the question that should come automatically.

What boy?

It doesn’t come.

The silence stretches one second past comfortable, then another. He doesn’t look confused.

“You’re not going to ask me what boy?”

“No.” A beat passes. Then, finally, “I know.”

The words don’t make sense at first. Then they do. “What do you mean, you know?”

“I knew your father had leverage over you. You wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

“So you investigated me.”

“Yes.”

The blunt admission hits harder than a denial would have. “You went through my life.”

“Yes.”

“My medical records?”

“Yes.”

I stare at him. No excuse. No attempt to soften what he did. “How long ago?”

“A few days.”

A few days. The apartment. The market. Dinner with his family.

Last night.