I looked at Sal. “You needed my signature because I’m the collector of record. I was on site. I watched the week. I watched tonight.”
“You watched too closely.”
“I watched enough to know there’s no honest default.”
“Honest.” Sal’s voice flattened. “You keep using that word like it has anything to do with collection.”
“It does now.”
His stare went flat. He wasn’t surprised, and he wasn’t afraid. He looked at me the way he’d looked at men who needed to learn how much paper couldn’t protect them.
Nella’s shoulders squared, and the scarf in her hair shifted in the alley breeze.
“Nico,” she said, low.
I didn’t look at her. If I looked at Nella right then, I’d forget to keep the teeth behind my lips.
Sal stepped closer. “If you walk away from this, you don’t walk back into Jersey under my name. You don’t call my people. You don’t use my protection. You don’t collect for Torretti Harbor Capital again.”
“I know.”
“You’ll be nobody.”
Nella made a sound.
It wasn’t a laugh. It wasn’t even close.
I felt it before I heard the words.
“He’ll be Nico,” she said.
Sal’s gaze cut to her.
She lifted the receipts between them. “And that’s inconvenient for you, because Nico is the one who can tell the truth about what happened here. He can say I paid the honest part. He can say you tried to take the bar anyway. He can say your default packet was a lie wearing cologne.”
I turned my head just enough to see her.
Her dark eyes were bright in the alley light. Her chin stayed steady. The chosen mark at her neck stayed hidden under curls and scarf, and I was grateful for that, because Sal didn’t get that piece of us. He didn’t get anything that belonged to the part of my life I’d chosen.
“You think paperwork scares me?” Sal asked.
“No,” Nella said. “I think public proof annoys men who prefer people scared and alone.”
A muscle moved in Sal’s jaw.
I stepped forward before he could take another inch.
The shark in me went quiet.
There would be no fin, no blood, and no horror show in the service alley behind a margarita bar. I gave him only stillness,teeth kept barely behind my lips, and my voice low enough that every word carried.
“You can take the principal payment,” I said. “You can mark the account satisfied on the honest debt. You can leave Miami with the car still shiny and tell yourself you were generous.”
Sal stared at me.
“Or,” I said, “you can try to force the packet without my certification, after a week of verified receipts and payment proof, while your own collector says the default was manufactured.”
Nella leaned slightly around my arm. “And while I make a lot of noise.”
