“You control this city.”
“No.” Lenrog looks genuinely amused now. “I influence portions of it. Very different. Control is fantasy sold to frightened rich people and young gangsters. The city isecosystems layered over each other. Police, unions, politicians, gangs, corporations, churches, smugglers, desperate mothers, bored billionaires. Everyone pushes. No one rules.”
“You rule enough.”
“Enough to survive. Not enough to rewrite human stupidity.”
I lean back slightly, forcing my breathing steady.
The restaurant hums quietly around us again now that immediate violence seems less likely. A server passes carrying plates fragrant with roasted peppers and garlic butter. Rain crawls down the tall windows overlooking downtown. Somewhere near the bar, someone laughs too loudly.
Ordinary life wrapped around criminal architecture.
Lenrog watches me carefully. “You are angrier than the situation justifies.”
“You call humiliating me in front of Evie unjustified anger?”
“No.” His gaze sharpens. “I call it revealing anger.”
My silence confirms too much.
“There it is,” Lenrog murmurs.
“What?”
“The truth.”
I stare at him flatly. “You enjoy hearing yourself talk.”
“Occupational hazard.” He takes another drink. “You are not furious because Ron mocked you. You are furious because Evie saw you powerless.”
The words hit with vicious precision.
My jaw tightens.
Lenrog nods slightly like a professor watching correct math emerge. “Yes. Exactly that.”
“You think you know me.”
“I think you are transparent in very specific ways.”
“I am not.”
“Kauss.” Lenrog leans forward slightly. “You marched into my restaurant looking ready to tear out throats because awoman saw you endure humiliation. Not pain. Humiliation. That is not pride alone. Pride would have sent you after Ron directly. What you are feeling is more complicated.”
I hate how accurately he speaks.
“I do not need analysis from a crime lord.”
“No. You need honesty from someone old enough to recognize devotion before it kills you.”
My claws flex against the table edge.
Lenrog notices and continues anyway.
“You love her.”
The sentence lands clean and absolute between us.
