Page 145 of Malicious Claim

Good.

A woman should wait for a man. For him it meant he was in control. He let the silence hang a moment longer, drawing it tight.

"I finally caught him," Makros said at last, crossing further into the room. "The other spy. Dimitri."

There was a flash of something on Leila's face—too quick to name. Surprise? Shock? It was gone before he could be certain.

He would not let it happen again.

He sat beside her, close enough for her to feel his warmth but not close enough that she'd shift uncomfortably.

"Dimitri confessed," he said, hesitating just a moment for the full force of the words to hit. His face was intent on hers, but she didn't flinch. Satisfied, he smiled, "Stefanos warned him. Told him I was closing in."

This time, she flinched. Barely perceptibly.

Her eyes were bulge wide open for an instant before she recovered, but he had already seen it. The tiny crack in her seemingly perfect composure.

Surprise, he told himself, is a far more better reaction than fear or guilt.

Makros exhaled, collecting himself before he said anything else. "You were right," he acknowledged unwillingly. "I did not want to believe it, but Stefanos's name keeps cropping up. And however much it hurts to acknowledge it... people change. Even good men can be consumed by ambition."

He left the implication hanging there. That Stefanos—his cousin, his childhood friend—was now a potential threat to the Crete's family.

Leila was careful not to give away her excitement, however. If anything, she looked guarded.

Makros leaned in, lowering his voice to something that was close to a whisper.

"But if you are playing me." His gaze locked onto hers. "If this is some clever ruse to get me to fuck up my own cousin—" He inclined his head, examining her for any hint of wavering. "I will discover it. And when I do, you will be sorry that you ever tried to deceive me."

Leila held his eyes. "Fine, but now what?" she snarled, defiantly. "Am I still your sex toy, locked away in this so-called dungeon, or are you finally letting me go?"

Makros met her glare with an amused smile. Sex toy? She was being dramatic, as always.

"I've kept you sitting in this room long enough," he breathed. With a slow, deliberate motion, he trailed one finger down her jaw, tilting her chin up. "Come with me."

Her expression did not shift.

But before she could respond, a knock on the door interrupted her.

"Makros."

Makros adjusted slightly, his hand dropping from Leila's face.

"Yeah, Nicolai. What's going on?"

"Your father has summoned everyone to the living room for an emergency meeting."

Makros didn't move at first. He just sat there, weighing, trying to figure out what could possibly be so urgent as to warrant such a meeting. Then, without a word, he got up, took Leila's hand, and moved towards the door.

The gigantic living room was packed when they got there.

Capos, soldiers, and maids were standing at attention, while those in the inner circle sat.

On the far side of the room, sitting in his regular chair, Don Matteo glared over the group with expressionless mastery. Sitting beside him was Stefanos.

Makros fumed with deep, seething anger at seeing him there, sitting like he was some sort of son of the family. As if he weren't a traitor.

He fumed at Leila's side, but his expression never gave it away.