Page 81 of Malicious Claim (Dark Inheritance #1)

The Foolery

"Zandros," the figure said, "drop the act."

Leila's eyes shot wide. She stared at the man walking closer. Then glanced back at the one already standing there.

"What the... wait—what? There's two of them?" Her brain scrambled to catch up. She blinked hard, like maybe it was her eyes playing tricks. But no, they were identical.

Zandros chuckled arrogantly. "Alright, so what if I've been pretending? I'm Don now. The Crete men answer to me."

The real Makros stopped just short of Dragon and Leila. His eyes never left his twin.

"Maybe," he said. "But we both know you won't ask them to shoot me. Because Dragon would have to shoot her. And then everything you've worked for goes up in flames."

Don Matteo stood off to the side, speechless.

He looked like he'd aged ten years in five minutes.

The realization settled deep in his chest. He had unwittingly given power to the wrong son.

Zandros, the castoff. The one they banished two years ago.

He'd been tricked. Lied to. And now, in front of everyone, he looked like a fool.

"Listen, Mak," Zandros said, trying to keep his voice calm. "Let's leave the girl out of this. I can make you my second-in-command. We can rule together."

Before Makros could answer, the sound of multiple engines roared from down the road. Tires screeched. Shouting voices filled the air. Gunshots rang out from just beyond the trees.

They had company.

Eva Botega's men.

The Orel Bratva.

The Russians hadn't waited for the dust to settle. They made their move fast.

As the chaos broke out around them, men with weapons drew theirs out, the others ducked and scrambled.

Zandros flinched, his attention snapping toward the commotion. That single second had cost him.

He watched, helpless, as Dragon pulled Leila's arm, nodded at Makros, and the three of them slipped into an unmarked car and sped off, tires screaming across the gravel.

Makros drove fast, weaving through cars and debris as the chaos unfurled like bolts of lightning behind them. Dragon sat in the backseat with Leila, gun still pressed into her ribs. Her heartbeat thudded loud in her chest.

She considered blurting that she was pregnant. Maybe that'd make them go easy on her. But before she could speak, Dragon did.

"Unbelievable," Dragon said. "Zandros had been fooling us from the start."

Makros didn't take his eyes off the road. "I'm honestly surprised you didn't figure him out sooner."

Leila cleared her throat. "You're not gonna hurt me, right? I—I'm a victim. Your brother killed my family. Forced me to marry him. I didn't want any of this."

Makros's hands tightened on the wheel. His jaw flexed.

"Ha, really?" he said. "Guess he fooled you the most. I killed your family, Leila. Not Zandros. That was me. You were lucky that night."

Leila's voice dropped. "Wait—wh-what? Does that mean... he saved me?"

She wasn't even talking to them anymore. Just saying the words out loud.

Makros let out a laugh. "Don't get it twisted, Leila.

Zandros doesn't give a shit about you. You were just a means to an end.

He probably thought marrying you would throw everyone off his scent.

I mean, think about it—I go on a mission to wipe out the Crawfords, and my twin comes back with the Crawford daughter? Who's gonna suspect him, huh?"

Leila's stomach turned. Her chest ached.

"So he used me..." she whispered.

"You have no idea," Makros said, taking a hard left, speeding past a slow truck. "You walked into the dragon's lair, and you're still worried about the dog growling at you."

The cold metal of the gun pressed harder into her side, and she snapped.

"Would you stop pointing that fucking thing at me? You already won!"

Makros glanced in the rearview mirror, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

"Feisty," he muttered. "Dragon, you can stop now."

Dragon sneered but slowly lowered the gun. "So... what now?" he asked.

"There's a war going on back there," Makros said. "Perfect time to vanish. Hey, Leila, how do you feel about a little trip back to America?"

"Let me guess," she said. "My feelings wouldn't matter."

Makros scoffed. "Damn right."

Dragon grunted. "Did you know her mom's working with the Orel Bratva and Vincenzo?"

Makros raised an eyebrow. "Hmm. Didn't even know she had a mother."

He didn't sound too astonished. He had already started piecing it all together. The Russians, Vincenzo... they weren't working alone.

Makros didn't let the thought distract him. He drove fast, barely slowing down as they reached an old vineyard. The place looked dead—overgrown plants, broken fences, and quiet air. But a rusted gate opened as they got closer.

Three men in black stood behind it, holding guns. One of them stepped forward.

Makros rolled down the window. "It's me."

The man nodded and stepped aside. Makros drove in.

Dragon looked around. "Who are those men?"

Makros didn't answer. He just kept driving until they reached a barn at the end of the path. It looked empty, until someone slid a section of the wall open, revealing a helicopter inside.

Leila's eyes widened. "You've got a chopper?"

Makros brought the car to a stop. "Chopper, yes. Let's move."

The wind from the spinning blades was loud and wild. A man handed Makros a black bag. Another checked his watch, nodding to the pilot.

Makros grabbed Leila by the wrist and led her to the chopper. She hesitated but followed. Dragon walked behind, watching their backs.

Before getting in, Makros turned to the men left behind. "Burn it. No one should find this place."

One of them nodded. "Got it."

The chopper lifted into the air quickly. Leila looked down. The place was already starting to smoke. Makros sat across from her in silence.

Dragon closed the door and sat beside him. "So what now?"

Makros didn't look up. "Now we vanish."

Dragon looked at Leila. "What about her?"

Makros finally looked up. "She's not going back to Zandros. Ever."

Leila didn't respond. Her chest felt tight. She looked out the window as the world below got smaller.

She didn't know what came next. But she feared that the worst was yet to come.