Page 3 of High Stakes

“Leone, what happened?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. “Is Fallon okay?”

“You don’t know when to give up!” he snaps, not even looking at me. “You’re too lenient with her, Milo. She needs to learn her place.”

“Maybe I could talk to her?” The thought of not knowing how she is, is killing me. “Maybe she’d respond better to a gentler approach?”

“Ha!” Leone scoffs, his dark eyes flashing with fury. “You think your softness will get through to her? She betrayed us, Milo! There’s no going back from that.”

“Please, just let me try,” I plead. My words fall on deaf ears. Leone shakes his head, gripping the railing so hard his knuckles turn white.

“I’m going out,” he says coldly, pushing past me and heading for the front door. The heavy thud of it slamming shut echoes through the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts and worries.

I feel helpless, like I’m drowning in my own uncertainty. Fallon’s betrayal still stings, but I can’t shake the feeling he’ll only push her further away. Cursing, I walk to the surveillance room, unable to stop thinking about the times I used to watch Fallon at the club. She was always so full of life, so... normal. And I envied her for it, knowing my world was far more dangerous than she could ever imagine.

With Leone gone, I’m left alone. The weight of Fallon’s deception presses down on me like a crashing wave. How could I have been so blind? Over the last two months, she became more submissive, her behavior changed so drastically it should have set off alarms. Instead, I let myself believe she was coming around to being with us.

I drop into the seat and turn to the dim glow of the monitors. Fallon is on camera. Her once vibrant spirit now seems broken—her body slumped, defeated. I can’t bear to see her like this much longer. Yet if I go down there, I might make things worse for her when Leone finds out.

Despite the turmoil inside me, I can’t tear my eyes away from the monitor. Each second feels like an eternity, and I long to do something, anything, to change the situation. With Leone’s anger fresh in my mind, I know I need to tread carefully.

My thoughts race, searching for a solution that won’t cause further damage. I need to find a way to show her there’s still hope. If she just plays along, does as she’s told, maybe he won’t be so brutal.

The image on the screen takes me back to the days I’d follow her during her breaks at the club. I remember how carefree she seemed—a sharp contrast to my dangerous world. That’s what initially drew me to her. And deep down, I knew she deserved better than this life.

The memory hits like a punch to the gut, as clear as if it happened yesterday. I’m standing across the street from the Chinese restaurant, watching Fallon through the window. Her blonde hair cascades down her back, her eyes shine with an intensity which has always captivated me.

I can’t help but smile as I watch her receive two takeout containers filled with fried rice. It’s payday at the club, and this small luxury is something she indulges in once a month.

Fallon takes a seat by the window, her eyes vacant as she stares out into the bustling street. I found myself wondering what thoughts swirl inside her head, what dreams and desires lie beneath her beautiful exterior. As much as I want to approach her, to talk to her, I know I can’t—not without putting her in danger. In my world, women are as much temptation as they are weapons to be used against us. So, I stood there watching, drinking in every detail of her.

A homeless man snaps me out of my reverie. He pushes his cart past the window, momentarily blocking my view. Irritation flares, and I shift to get a better look.

“Merda,” I curse when I realize she’s no longer at the window seat. My heart races as I scan the crowded restaurant, trying to find her.

The bell above the door jingles, and my heart skips a beat. Fallon steps out, cradling two takeout containers as she heads back to the club. Her focused expression draws me in closer.

As she passes the homeless man digging through a garbage can, she hesitates briefly, then turns back toward him. I watch with bated breath.

“Here,” she says softly, handing him one of the full containers. The man’s eyes widen in surprise, but before he can thank her, she’s already walking away.

Admiring her selflessness, I feel a twinge of guilt. Moments like these make it harder to stay hidden, to keep my distance when all I want is to be close to her. Her confidence and subtle beauty remind me of how different our worlds are. Deep down, I always held onto the hope those worlds might one day collide. Little did I know they would collide so devastatingly.

I followed her back to the club, staying out of sight as she approached her father, who was cleaning the gold paneling by the windows. He gazed up, his face brightening with a warm smile to mirror hers.

“Hey, Dad,” she greeted him, holding up one container.

“You didn’t have enough?” he asked, raising a brow.

“No, I did,” she shrugged. “I gave half to a homeless man. I hope you don’t mind.”

Her father studied her for a moment, pride in his voice. “No, sweetheart, you did the right thing,” he said, as I snuck behind the foyer counter.

I couldn’t help but compare this interaction to my own with my father. If I had done something similar, he would have beaten me for wasting money. Nathan seemed proud of Fallon, and I found it odd how different our fathers were. It made me wonder—if I’d had a decent one, would I be where I am today?

“I may have failed at most things, but I raised you right,” her father told her. “He needed it more than us.” She set the container on his cart, but he shook his head.

“No, take it. I finish soon. I’ll make something at home. You’ve got five more hours,” he told her. She tried to give him the container again, but he refused.

Fallon relented, pecking her father on the cheek and heading to the staff rooms. I turned to Sydney, who worked the foyer.

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