Page 23 of The Marriage Debt

He shifts and looks up at me. “Can Mateo walk me to class?”

I pause, not sure what he’s asking for. “You want him to go with you?”

He shrugs, still watching me. “He looks scarier than the other dads. But I think he’s stronger too.”

I study his face, searching for fear but finding none. He’s not worried. He’s measuring strength. He’s trying to understand the rules of this new world we’ve been thrown into, where the safest place might be the one guarded by the scariest man in the room.

I press a kiss to his temple. “We’ll see.”

He yawns again and closes his eyes without another word. His breathing evens out in seconds, soft and rhythmic. I stay there for a moment longer, listening, my hand resting lightly on the blanket. The room is quiet except for the tick of the wall clock and the sound of him settling into sleep.

I hate that he sees strength in Mateo’s violence, that he looks at a man like that and feels safer. It scares me more than anything else.

12

MATEO

Giorgio pulls the car to a stop outside Lev's school following my business meetings. He wanted me to walk him in this morning, but I was otherwise detained and Lila had to handle that, with Rafe and Alessio at her side, of course. But this afternoon, it brings me pleasure to know this boy looks up to me and when he walks out those doors, he will see me waiting. It's a fond feeling I don’t remember experiencing when I was a child, having someone wait for me outside my school.

"Thank you, Gio," I tell the driver as I slide out of the back seat and tug the lapels of my suit jacket into place.

The sun is warm but the breeze has a chill. I see Rafe's car at one end of the block and Alessio a few spots behind where my car is idling, waiting for me. They're posted here today instead of my normal guards to ensure Lev's first day back goes smoothly. I know how sneaky and vile Bianchi and his men can be. They've put a large target on Lila's back and that means Lev too. Anyone they can leverage to get back at Anton and get their money back will be in their crosshairs.

I move toward the gate, keeping my eyes wide and focused. The entire street is lined with cars occupied by parents here to collect their children. Lev's class is released earlier than the others to allow the youngest students time to find their parents before the older kids flood the sidewalks, or so Lila says. She's probably chewing her nails to the quick in anxiety right now. I ordered her to stay at the house while I take care of this, and she was livid at my order. But she obeyed.

I reach the iron gate and scan the sidewalk across the street without drawing attention to myself. A black Fiat sits at the curb with windows darkened, though not tinted enough to conceal the outlines of the men inside. Two figures occupy the front seats. Neither of them looks like a father. Both fix their attention on the school with a stillness that signals intent.

The driver glances toward me, then shifts to speak to the man beside him. The passenger lifts a phone and holds it against the door at an angle that mimics indifference. He snaps a photo in one smooth motion and returns the device to his pocket with a fluidity that suggests experience.

I step closer to the gate, maintaining a posture that reads as casual. I appear to be just another parent waiting for a child.

Rafe’s car remains parked at the corner, positioned at an angle that offers a clear view of the Fiat. He will have seen it already. He is likely running the plates and watching for movement. Alessio has not made contact, which suggests the men have not made any attempt to act. They are not here to take. They are here to observe and remind.

The school doors open, and Lev steps out with his backpack low on one shoulder and his collar slightly turned. He scans the adults gathered at the gate with a focused look, one that hints at uncertainty. I raise a hand. The moment he sees me, his expression brightens and his pace quickens.

“Mateo!” he calls out. “You came!”

I place a hand on his shoulder as soon as he reaches me. His warmth spreads beneath my palm, unfamiliar but steady. He looks up at me with a grin stretched wide across his face. “I told Michael you were picking me up. He didn’t believe me.”

“I always keep my word,” I say. “You do well today?”

He nods quickly. “I got a sticker. And I didn’t cry when the bell rang.”

“Good,” I tell him. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.”

Across the street, the men in the Fiat continue watching.

I turn my body slightly and guide Lev down the sidewalk toward the car. He begins talking right away, telling me about his worksheet and the dragon-shaped slide on the playground. I nod as needed, my eyes scanning windows and mirrors. The Fiat does not move, but the passenger raises his phone again. This time, the lens is pointed at Lev. He lifts the phone slowly and captures a clear shot of the boy’s face before lowering it again.

Lev continues without noticing a thing.

I do not open the car door. Instead, I keep Lev close and angle myself between him and the street. He does not question my sudden change in pace or the way I grip his shoulder more firmly.

As we near the parking lot, I see Rafe step away from the corner of the building. He’s intercepted the man from the Fiat—the same one who took Lev’s picture. I knew he wouldn’t stay in the car long. He’s too agitated, too deliberate in his movements. He pretended to be still, but he came here with intent.

Rafe’s posture is defensive, not passive. His coat is unbuttoned, hand free, weight balanced on the balls of his feet. He saw this coming. I keep Lev close and shift us toward the far edge of the lot, angling my body to shield the boy while my eyes stay locked on the two of them.

The man lunges.

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