Page 40 of Malicious Claim (Dark Inheritance #1)

Escape of the Spy and Leila's Alliance

LEILA’S POV

I needed to act quickly.

The whirring of machines echoed through the communications room, the light of monitors casting hard illumination on my features. Screens flickered with surveillance images, intercepted conversations, and encoded messages.

If Makros discovered me here, I would not live to see the dawn.

The place did not feel secure at all. There were no cameras to be seen, and while some of the monitors did display footage of everywhere in the house, they seemed to adhere to an unstated rule—rooms were off-limits.

The communication room was still a room, after all.

But I couldn't afford to be careless. I walked cautiously, being mindful of what I came into contact with.

The last thing I wanted to do was trigger an alarm by accident.

I took a slow breath and clutched the control panel. The spy's phone number was burned into my mind, and I punched it in hard.

The phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

Then it connected with a click. There was a pause, as if the other person had wanted me to speak first. Then a sharp, suspicious voice.

"Who the devil is this?"

No hello. Just plain hostility. He was already on edge.

Good.

"You're running out of time," I whispered. "Makros is coming to put an end to you."

There was a beat of silence. Then a sneer. "I don't know who you are. But I haven't done fucking shit to Makros. You hear me?"

"Dimitri, listen and listen to me very carefully. Dragon is coming. You need to leave wherever you're now."

A contemplative silence before, "How am I supposed to trust you? What if this is a trap—"

"It's not." My voice was firm. "I don't work for Makros."

He took a deep breath which frayed my nerves. I didn't need this, right now.

"Bullshit. How else would you have this number?"

I hesitated, crafting my next sentences with care. "I'm risking my life for you. Makros already murdered your partner. I don't know how you knew to get out of here, but something tells me you got good instincts Dimitri. You're the only one left."

He muttered a curse on the other end of the line. And then, "Why are you telling me this?"

I clenched my teeth together. "Because I want all the fucking Crete members dead. More than you ever will."

He said nothing, and then, at last, he asked. "Who are you?"

I breathed, my patience was wearing thin. "Leila Crawford. The woman he forced to marry him. The woman whose family he murdered."

This time, the silence was longer. When the spy finally spoke, his tone was unreadable.

"You're either very brave or very stupid."

"Both," I admitted.

He gave a cold laugh. "You actually expect me to believe you're betraying him?"

I leaned forward toward the mic, my tone hardening. "Makros has no idea what I'm doing. He still thinks he has me wrapped under his thumb. That's in my favor."

"More like wrapped around his dick." That was my head spouting foolishness.

There was another pause. Then a sigh. "What do you want?"

I didn't hesitate. "To work for Vincenzo."

The tension shifted. Even over the phone, I could tell that his mistrust ran deeper.

"You're asking for direct access to the man who's been trying to kill Makros for years?" he demanded. "That's a pretty outrageous request."

I gulped. "So what are you going to do?"

An eternity-long pause. Then he replied. "I'll see what I can do."

"No," I pressed. "There's no time for that. I need it right now."

He exhaled sharply. "How do I know you're not being coerced at gunpoint to use me to get to my benefactor?"

I hesitated for half a second and seized the quickest way to cut through his suspicion. "Because if someone was holding a gun to my head, I wouldn't be this desperate. I'd be calm. Careful. Trying not to slip up. None of which I am right now."

A raspberry sound. Another pause. It felt like I had spent several hours in the room, but on the timer it had only been under three minutes and I had no intention of going beyond three minutes.

Finally, with a clear reluctance, he said, "Fine, take down."

I held my breath as he dictated the number.

A second later, the call ended.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I had done it.

I had established contact.

I stepped back, ready to erase my track but simply spun around, my heart stopping.

I didn't know how I knew, but I knew.

Someone was coming.

I barely had time to switch off the phone and slide the keycard before slipping out of the door. I made the turn, attempting to slow down my breathing—And collided headlong with Nicolai.

What a narrow escape. Father always taught me to listen to my instincts and it never misled me.

Nicolai's piercing gaze swept over me in a flash, his expression unreadable. "Where were you?"

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. "Getting some fresh air. I told you that I couldn't sleep."

He frowned, eyes flicking toward the way I had just emerged from. "Fresh air?"

I met him dead on. "Yes."

He didn't utter a word for a long while. The tension lingered. And then, at last, he nodded. "Makros wants you back in the room."

I fought to stay calm. "Of course."

As I went by him, I could sense his eyes still on me. Watching. Gauging.

I had to be more vigilant.

Makros was summoning me but I had to make a sharp sidestep to return the key card I'd taken out of Stefanos.

Stefanos's room smelled of whiskey and smoke. The faint light cast long shadows, and the warm glow of embers in the ashtray showed that he had just fallen asleep.

Just perfect.

I walked in quickly, my hand sweeping across the clutter on his desk. Several glasses, cigarette butts, an open drawer half-way. A mess of someone who had gotten drunk to sleep.

I pulled out the keycard and placed it near the edge of the nightstand.

Not too obvious, not too hidden. Somewhere he'd see it and assume it had fallen out of his pocket or he'd forgotten it there in sloth and as a precaution, I tipped over the glass of whiskey beside it.

The alcohol spilled onto the nightstand, soaking into the edge of the card.

There we go, intoxicated and irresponsible. He would never question anything.

A low growl escaped Stefanos, and I stopped.

He shifted slightly, head tilting to the side, but breathing was still steady. He was sleeping and snoring softly.

I straightened up, edging back toward the door.

It had been another close call.

With a final glance around to make sure I hadn't accidentally left any sign of my return, I crept out of the room and shut the door behind me.

Now, I just had to act like nothing was wrong.

My heart still raced in my chest when I entered Makros' bedroom.

The moment I opened the door, Makros' voice cut through the shadows.

"I woke up and you weren't there."

His voice was smooth, but there was something cutting to it—something cruel, something possessive.

I looked into his eyes, feigning indifference as I approached the bed. "I couldn't sleep."

He looked at me from where he sat, legs apart slightly, hands on his thighs. His shirt was unbuttoned, his chest muscles hard underneath, and his hair was rumpled slightly. It was the kind of thing that made my stomach do flips.

How his appearance and good dick kept getting in the way of my revenge was absolutely appalling.

Makros didn't quite rush to me at first. He cocked his head instead, his eyes narrowing. "And just where did you go?"

I smiled, forcing a gentle, amused smile. "For a walk."

His jaw tightened, just barely. "A walk."

I nodded, walking in closer, deliberately sliding onto the bed beside him. My fingers sketched a slow line along his arm. "I needed air, Makros. I didn't think you'd mind."

A pause. Then his lips twisted up into something that was almost a smirk. "I don't mind."

His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my chin, tugging my face up to his. "As long as you remember where you belong."

I smiled at him, relaxing my muscles, keeping my smile soft.

"Always," I breathed.

Makros regarded me for another moment, then released me just as abruptly.

"Come here," he ordered.

I obeyed. I always obeyed to give him the illusion of submission.

By morning, I had my answer.

Makros was angry.

I stayed in the corner of his office as he banged his hand on his desk, his jaw set so hard that I wondered if his teeth would shatter.

"No, no, no, Jill wouldn't have deceived me," he growled. "I knew he was telling the truth when my knife was stuck in him—how in the hell did Dimitri manage to escape?"

No one answered. Not Dragon. Not even Nicolai, who was standing beside me, arms crossed.

I forced myself to be expressionless. I knew absolutely how.

Because I had saved him.

I stepped closer, putting a hand on Makros's shoulder. "You'll catch him. You always do."

His muscles were tense under my hand.

He turned slowly to me, eyes dark with something I couldn't quite pinpoint.

Then his lips curled up into a smile.

"Do I?"

The question was too soft. Maybe I'd overacted my role.

My pulse beat faster, but I kept a steady voice. "Always."

His smirk deepened, but his grip on my wrist became a hold. "You once said something to me, Leila."

I took a slow breath.

"You said submission is an illusion."

My stomach tightened.

Makros tilted his head to the side. "So tell me... is your submission to me real, or is it an illusion?"

I smiled, brushing my fingers against his jaw. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He let out a menacing chuckle, his hand moving up my throat. "Careful, little redhead."

His grip was not tight. Not yet. But on the inside I was weary he could choke me to death.

"Seriously, in public?" I teased. "Got no respect for your union?"

"What the fuck are you people still staring at? You heard the lady, go fetch me the spy and bring me his head!"

They turned to leave immediately.

Makros returned his gaze to me, and I knew he would be observing me that much more closely now.