Marcus set the glass down slowly.
“Good.”
Then Leo continued.
“But… one crate is missing.”
The room froze.
Marcus’s expression didn’t change.
But something dark flickered in his eyes.
“One crate,” he repeated softly.
“Yes.”
Marcus picked up a pistol from the table beside him.
The movement was so casual it almost looked polite.
Then he pointed it directly at Leo’s chest.
Several men in the room inhaled sharply.
Tony smirked.
“Do you know,” Marcus said slowly, “how much that crate was worth?”
Leo didn’t speak.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Do you know how many men would kill for the opportunity to guard my shipments?”
The gun’s barrel pressed against Leo’s heart.
Cold metal.
Leo didn’t move.
He’d seen men beg in this situation.
They always died faster.
Marcus tilted his head slightly.
“Give me one reason,” he said quietly, “why I shouldn’t put a bullet through you right now.”
The room held its breath.
Leo opened his mouth—
But another voice spoke first.
“Marcus.”
Soft.
Gentle.
And completely unexpected.
Marcus frowned slightly and glanced toward the staircase.
Every man in the room followed his gaze.
A woman stood halfway down the stairs.
She wore a simple white dress that flowed around her like moonlight. Dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her pale skin seemed almost luminous under the chandelier’s glow.
She looked completely out of place in a house full of criminals.
Beautiful.
Graceful.
Dangerously delicate.
Leo had never seen her before.
But he couldn’t stop staring.
She descended the steps slowly.
Each movement calm and elegant.
Marcus lowered the gun slightly.
“What is it, Isabella?”
So this was her.
Isabella Rossi.
Marcus Cohen’s most treasured possession.
The woman he guarded more carefully than his whiskey empire.
Isabella stopped beside Marcus.
Her eyes briefly met Leo’s.
And for a single moment—
Something strange passed between them.
Curiosity.
Recognition.
Maybe even sympathy.
Then she turned to Marcus.
“Marcus,” she said gently, “you need good men more than dead ones right now.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed.
“He lost my shipment.”
“Only one crate.”
“That’s enough.”
Isabella touched his arm lightly.
Leo saw several men in the room look away immediately.
No one touched Marcus like that.
Except her.
“The city is already unstable,” she said softly. “Killing your best fighters over one mistake will only weaken you.”
Marcus studied her face.
She held his gaze without fear.
Finally, Marcus lowered the gun completely.
“Fine.”
Leo released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Marcus looked at him again.
“You have three days,” he said coldly.
“Find the missing crate.”
Leo nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“If you fail,” Marcus added quietly, “I’ll bury you beside it.”
Tony chuckled under his breath.
The meeting was over.
Leo turned to leave.
But as he reached the door, a young maid hurried after him.
“Mr. Valentino,” she whispered quickly.
Leo frowned.
She slipped a folded piece of paper into his hand.
“From Miss Rossi.”
Then she disappeared back into the mansion.
Leo stared at the paper for a moment before unfolding it.
The message was short.
The crate wasn’t stolen.
Someone inside took it.
Be careful who you trust.
Leo’s pulse quickened.
Inside job?
He glanced back toward the staircase.
Isabella stood there again.
Watching him.
Their eyes met across the room.
Then she turned and disappeared upstairs.
—
Outside, the night air felt colder.
Leo walked toward the truck, the note still burning in his hand.
Tony leaned against the vehicle smoking a cigarette.
“So,” Tony said lazily. “You survived.”
Leo ignored him.
But as he passed the mansion window, voices drifted out through the open glass.
Marcus’s voice.
“…Valentino.”
Leo froze.
Tony’s voice answered.
“Yes, boss?”
Leo’s stomach tightened.
Tony continued.
“I don’t trust him.”
Marcus hummed.
“Why not?”
Tony chuckled softly.
“The way he looked at Miss Rossi.”
Silence.
Then Marcus spoke again.
Low.
Dangerous.
“I noticed that too.”
Leo’s blood turned to ice.
Tony continued casually.
“You want me to keep an eye on him?”
Marcus paused.
Then said quietly—
“No.”
Tony sounded surprised.
“No?”
“I want to see,” Marcus said slowly, “if he’s stupid enough to touch something that belongs to me.”
Leo didn’t wait to hear more.
He walked away from the window quickly.
His heart was pounding now.
Not because Marcus almost shot him.
Not because the crate was missing.
But because of something far more dangerous.
The woman who had just saved his life.
Isabella Rossi.
Marcus Cohen’s woman.
And the one person in Chicago Leo Valentino absolutely could not afford to think about again.