“You’re finished here,” Luka says.
Enzo buttons his jacket calmly. “I know Alexei will make the correct decision eventually.”
All the violence inside me rises again at the implication beneath those words because men like Enzo believe pressure changes behavior and fear eventually creates compliance. He still doesn’t understand who he’s dealing with.
“You should pray,” I tell him quietly, “that no one touches her before I learn who gave that order.”
Enzo studies me for one long second before a smile slowly appears, not triumphant so much as curious, like he’s learned far more from this meeting than he expected to.
Rain lashes harder against the tall windows while Enzo adjusts the collar of his suit and starts toward the doorway leading back into the restaurant. Just before reaching it, he glances over his shoulder at me.
“She seems kind,” he says smoothly. “It would be unfortunate if Savannah stopped feeling safe to her.”
Viktor lunges first. Luka catches his arm immediately, but this time, I move before reason can interfere. I cross the distancebetween us in two strides and drag the knife across Enzo’s cheek fast enough that even his men react a second too late.
He gasps sharply, stumbling back while blood streaks down the side of his cheek.
Every gun in the room rises again.
Viktor already has his pistol aimed at one man’s throat while Luka steps sideways near me pointing his gun at another man. The restaurant staff scatters somewhere beyond the closed doors.
One of Enzo’s men steps forward.
“Stop,” Enzo snaps.
The room freezes.
Blood drips steadily between his fingers while one of his men quickly shoves a folded white napkin into his hand. Enzo presses it against the cut, breathing harder now, genuine surprise finally breaking through the polished composure he carried into this meeting.
I step closer slowly so he can hear every word clearly.
“That scar will remind you who the fuck you’re dealing with,” I say quietly. “And it’ll remind you not to step into my world again.”
The room remains locked in violent silence for another long minute before Enzo finally gives a faint nod, not submissive or apologetic, but acknowledging exactly who stands in front of him.
Interesting.
He looks to his men. “We’re leaving.”
No one moves immediately. No one trusts the room enough for that yet.
Finally, Enzo backs toward the doorway while his men reposition around him, their weapons lowering inch by inch. Viktor watches them with open hatred while Luka remains beside me.
Broken crystal litters the hardwood floor beside overturned chairs while thunder rattles the windows hard enough to vibrate the glass. The smell of whiskey and blood hangs thick in the air now, tangled together beneath the fading tension of violence.
Luka exhales first. “That could have gone worse.”
I continue staring at the closed door long after Enzo disappears beyond it. They have been watching Maggie far longer than I realized.
I turn toward Viktor. “Double every rotation around the shelter.”
His expression hardens. “Already done.”
“Not enough.” I shove a hand through my hair and move toward the sideboard beneath the dim wall sconces, forcing my breathing back into rhythm again. “I want plainclothes security at every entrance. Rotating vehicles around Maggie’s routes through Savannah. Teresa Hayes receives extra coverage immediately, too.”
Luka begins typing notes into his tablet. “I’ll coordinate additional teams.”
“No visible bodyguards,” I continue. “Maggie frightens easily when she believes people are being endangered because of her.The shelter can’t look militarized. Volunteers keep coming and going. Adoptions continue. No one panics the staff.”
