Page 147 of Malicious Claim

Then, he watched as the Don's lips parted again. His pulse quickened. This was it...his turn.

"Stefanos."

The name came with greater import than the others. The air in the room became charged, energy moving infinitesimally.

Cursily seated, Stefanos bent forward, finally acknowledging the moment.

The Don regarded him for a long beat. Makros, watching closely, was reminded of the secret his father had kept, the knowledge that Stefanos had once tried to force himself on Leila. And yet, here they were.

"You have proven... adaptable," the Don continued. "Which can be a strength or a weakness. Time will tell. But you are family, and you have been loyal in your own way."

A smirk ghosted across Stefanos' lips.

Makros and Dragon exchanged a look. No words, just an understanding that passed between them.

"You will be head of external operations," the Don finally declared.

Leila scoffed beside Makros, unimpressed.

Makros' fingers curled against the armrest, his grip tightening. It took effort—real effort, not to speak out. This motherfucker, still under suspicion of betrayal, had just been given control over alliances, new ventures, and the gatekeeping of their world. But that was a mistake Makros could correct, once he had proof.

The Don let out a brief chuckle. "I'll admit, we have no shortage of competent men. But I'll sleep easier knowing Stefanos is handling our outside affairs. Now, I know manyof you would agree he doesn't exactly fit the mold because he makes jokes—"

Laughter rippled through the room, punctuating the Don's words before it died down. Even Stefanos grinned, spreading his hands in mock surrender.

"But we need someone like Stefanos for diplomatic reasons," the Don continued, his tone shifting to something more deliberate. "Someone who knows when to talk, when to listen, and when to pull the trigger."

Stefanos inclined his head. "Ah, so my charm does come in handy."

Dragon rolled his eyes. "Don't push it."

Another chuckle ran through the gathering.

Leila studied Stefanos, then flicked her gaze to Makros, noting the ease in his posture despite the storm she knew brewed beneath. He was playing along, but she could see it, the way his fingers still tapped against the chair, the way his eyes occasionally drifted toward Stefanos, calculating.

Makros finally locked eyes with his father and held his gaze. He didn't shift in his seat, but his fingers stopped tapping.

"I am resigning," the Don finally said. The words felt like he had just passed a death sentence upon himself. "Makros will take my place."

Don Matteo allowed himself a brief moment of introspection after he said so.

There was once a time he'd thought that he would divide the Crete empire between his two sons. But then his wife passed on in a ghastly car accident and he had to be both mother and father. When one of his sons began to be a nuisance he sent him away to never show up in the family again unless he was ready to die. He missed his wife, she was the only one who could calm him down emotionally. He was hardly emotional till this day but his decision to banish one son had been an emotional one.

Chapter Fifty Four

Consequences

The living room was starting to empty out after the promotions had been handed out. Leila and Nicolai were among the last to depart, leaving Makros in his father's company.

"I have not fully stepped down," Don Matteo said. "This was just a formal announcement."

"I figured as much," Makros replied.

His father reached for something in his suit's inner pocket and he produced an envelope. "Someone dropped this for you on my windshield yesterday. Who did you make angry this time?"

Makros took the envelope, ripping out the letter. His gaze sped over the lines:

Makros Crete, your days are numbered. There's no shortage of men waiting to carve your empire into pieces. No shortage of debts left unpaid. But the real debt? That's between you and me. The more you search for me, the more I'll take. You can't protect everything, and you can't stop me. You'll never see me coming—only what I leave behind. Tick tock, Makros. It had been signed E.B. in the bottom right corner.