Page 146 of Malicious Claim

He still held her hand and walked her to the seats at his father's right hand. They fell into position with trained fluidity, their poses looking easy. And then, the conference began.

The Don leaned back comfortably in his chair, fingers interlocked, eyes scanning the room. A look was enough to quiet the room.

When he spoke, his voice was soft, but unrelenting.

"Loyalty is a delicate thing." His voice cut through the air. "It needs to be tested. Tempered. Tested again. And again. And again."

No one could immediately tell where he was leading with this, not even Makros who thought he knew the man all too well.

"We've seen betrayal," he said. "And we've seen where it takes us. But those who are left, those who survive, are worth remembering."

As he paused to let that sink, Makros finally understood what this gathering was called for. It made his skin crawl with so much anticipation but he had to maintain composure.

"Dragon," Don Matteo called sharply.

Dragon leaned forward slightly, his posture at ease as always, but his eyes burned with an intensity that could set the room on fire.

"You've worked for this family for years," the Don said, his voice levelled. "As underboss to Makros, there is no higher position I could grant you." His eyes narrowed to a slit. "But loyalty still has its rewards."

He paused to let the words take hold.

"Starting today, you'll receive a ten percent bonus on every shipment deal we make. I'm going to add more to your wealth."

A murmur ran through the room.

Dragon nodded his head in appreciation. "Thank you, Don. I appreciate it."

Makros kept quiet, but in his thoughts, he had been estimating just how much ten percent was worth. It was a good bonus for loyalty.

The Don continued.

"Nicolai."

Leila caught his jaw tense, but his expression remained stoic. She wondered why he always acted like that, like an unemotional sac of balls.

"You are a strategist. You are effective. And above all—loyal."

The Don paused for a long time, considering making Nicolai shift in his seat with some level of anxiety.

"You will be Caporegime."

Nicolai finally let go of the stale breath he was holding and nodded his head. "Thank you, Don. I won't disappoint you."

Caporegime? Makros barely even looked at him. It was a befitting role for a man who went undercover for them with the ambassador, and being instrumental in getting Aleksei out of prison. But the question of the hour still lingered in his mind: Why now? Why these changes? And where is mine?

Then the Don spoke again and Makros leaned forward expectantly only to be disappointed when his father spoke another name.

"Estela."

The head maid stepped forward, hands neatly folded in front of her. Though Leila had once harbored speculative jealousy toward her, seeing Estela outside the confines of the sex dungeon cast her in an entirely different light.

"You have been the backbone of this household." The Don's tone contained something strange—respect. "You see more than most. You know more than you let on. That is valuable."

There was another pause.

"From here on out, you are chief of staff."

Makros nodded, weighing the role against what he knew of the woman. No objections, she had earned it.

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