Page 11 of The Boss
For the first time a flicker of unease crossed her face, though she covered it quickly. “So I’m to be caged?”
“Secured,” he corrected softly, the emphasis of that one single word leaving no room for misinterpretation. “And the sooner you accept that, the easier your nights here will be.”
Jake’s gaze flicked to Mariah. “This way, Ms. Jones.”
She didn’t move at first. She was still looking at Leif, the question in her eyes no longer whether she could stand up to him but whether she could stand herself afterward. He didn’t give her reassurance. He gave her the truth. “Eight a.m. sharp,” he said. “Dress to run a war.”
Her mouth curved. “That I can do.” She stepped past him, and when she reached the door, she paused and glanced back. “Leif?”
He shouldn’t have liked the naked way she said his name. He did anyway. “Yes.”
“If you’re going to burn the city to find me again,” she said softly, “start with the Trinity River. Fire follows current.”
The hint slid through him like a blade under armor. River. Not a metaphor. Aplace. Aroute. Atransport line. But why would she hand him something so concrete? Was it a warning, atest, or bait for atrap?
His mind mapped Dallas by instinct—boathouses, trussed bridges, old warehouses with loading bays opening onto the water—while a second voice whispered caution. If it was real, it could expose her. If it was false, it could gut him. The uncertainty gnawed, but the pull of the Brand and the fire in her eyes left him no choice. He would pursue it, trusting neither her nor the clue, but unwilling to let itgo.
“Thank you for the geography lesson,” he said dryly. “Consider it your first contribution to Severin Dominion.”
She gave him a look that might have been a salute if it weren’t so insolent. Then she was gone, heels ticking a steady code as she followed Jake into the corridor.
The door closed. The lock snicked. The office breathed out, and then Leif dragged air back in and went towork.
He dialed three numbers in order of leverage. “Henry,” he said. “You’re on shadow. You’ll keep ten paces, never less than two doors, never more than a hallway. If she heads for stairs, you’re already at the bottom. If she touches a badge panel that isn’t hers, you take her hand off the glass and call me before you breathe again.”
“Understood,” Henry said, and hungup.
“Rolf,” Leif said next. “Days. If she speaks to anyone whose last name you don’t know, Iwant the name by noon.”
“Yes, Boss.”
He made one more call, to a man who owed him favors in grimy piles. “I want the Trinity River watched. That’s Severin territory,” Leif said. “Tonight. Docks, boathouses, and every warehouse with a waterline within ten miles. Quiet eyes. No spooking rats. If there’s an operation running down there, Iwant it in my hand before dawn.”
The answer came with the rustle of papers. “You think she’s running something through the Trinity River?”
“I think she told me where to look,” Leif said. “And I think she wants me to see what’s waiting when I get there.” He ended the call, slid the phone aside, and stood very still in the center of his office, listening to the way the building vibrated under his feet. Severin Dominion had its own heartbeat. Tonight, it matchedhis.
He turned his hand palm-up. The Brand glowed—faint, relentless. He thought of her mouth, the taste of defiance and jasmine, the quiet terror he’d pretended not to see when his thumb found her pulse. He thought of the way she’d said fire follows current and something like an old, remembered thrill chased through him. The joy of a hunt that foughtback.
He picked up his jacket and shrugged it on, buttoning each button like a vow. Tomorrow he would sit across from her at eight a.m. with schedules, briefings, and a map of the city that now ran in two inks: black for business, gold for Mariah. He would test her loyalties and her tells. He would watch for which name she flinched at—names like De Luca, Moretti, Romano, Vitale, and De Angelis—and he would press there until the flinch turned into a confession.
He walked to the glass and looked out over Dallas. The Trinity River cut a dark line through the grid, avein. He smiled,something sharp and private. “Run if you want,” he murmured to his reflection. “Or stay and lie. Either way, I’m coming.”
The Brand burned in answer, and the city—his city—seemed to lean closer to hear what he would donext.
The office door opened again without a knock. Leif didn’t have to look to know who dared enter. The cadence of two sets of footsteps, synchronized and unhurried, echoed across the floor. His twin brothers, the men who had stood at his side in every bloody chapter of their rise. Magnus, the Captain, volatile as gunpowder, and Alaric, the Underboss, cold as an ice blade. They were his blood, his mirrors and foils.
Magnus reached the desk first, broad-shouldered and restless, his voice sharp with energy barely caged. “You’ve got the Dominion on edge, brother. Word spreads fast when you lock the doors with a woman inside.”
Alaric lingered a pace behind, measured and cautious. His gaze swept the room, catching the faint shimmer of the Brand on Leif’s hand before returning to his brother’s face. “Magnus is right about the whispers. You’ve made a spectacle. What is she to you that you’d risk exposing weakness?”
Leif poured himself another bourbon but didn’t offer them any. “She’s mine to handle.”
Magnus laughed, quiet and dangerous. “That Brand says otherwise. You think the Dantes won’t smell blood if they learn their mark burns on you too?”
“They already know.” The grim three words didn’t invite a comment or response.
Alaric’s tone was softer, colder. “We’re not questioning your control, Leif. We’re questioning her purpose. No one walks into Severin Dominion without reason.”
