Page 26 of Mafia King

One of the men steps too close. Words rise. Then the largest of the three shoves his grandfather hard enough that he stumbles and goes down on one knee.

“Grandpa!” Theo hollers from the boat, already starting to paddle back to shore.

Theo’s heart lurches. He digs his bare feet into the pedals and drives the little boat toward the grassy bank as fast as he can.

By the time the hull scrapes shallow water he can see his grandfather back on his feet. He swings his fist in a short, brutal arc that catches the man who shoved him across the jaw.

The man staggers.

The other two hesitate just long enough for his grandfather to land solid shots on them too.

“Stay the fuck away from here!” his grandfather growls, looking every inch the man built from steel, his body a temple from decades of physical work and living simply. “No means no!”

They leave the same way they always do—back to the cars, dust rising behind them as they peel down the driveway.

Theo scrambles out of the boat and runs. His grandfather is already dusting himself down.

One eye is beginning to swell, the skin around it darkening fast. He reaches him and wraps both arms around his middle, face pressed into the worn flannel of his shirt.

He rests a large, steady hand on the back of Theo’s head.

“I will never back down, little one,” he says, voice calm despite the injury. “The most important thing in the world is to hold on to what you believe in. No matter who tries to take it from you.”

Theo only holds his Grandpa tighter.

The lake behind him is quiet again. Maximus sits in the boat, still watching as ever. All Theo can think about is that his grandfather protects his land in the same way he protects him.

One day, he thinks, I’ll be just like him…

PRESENT DAY

Theo blinks and the farm dissolves from his mind.

The soft glow of the iPad screen pulls him back into the quiet of his bedroom. Lady and the Tramp are still sharing spaghetti on the small display. Maximus is warm against his side, the fabric of his ear soft under his fingers.

The memory settles something solid inside his chest. His grandfather never folded. He held the line until the day the odds finally became impossible, and even then he did not surrender the principle.

Theo carries that same refusal in his blood.

Feelings for a man like Nikolai—no matter how completely he can undo his body—cannot be allowed to rewrite the job.

Theo draws a slow breath and makes the decision cleanly. He will keep whatever is growing between them under control. He will take the heat when it serves the work and shut it down when it does not.

The money, the future, the freedom… all of it depends on finishing what Tracker hired him to do. Nothing else can matter more than that.

Theo settles deeper into the pillows, Maximus tucked close, and turns his attention back to the film. The familiar animation and soft music fill the room once more.

But somewhere across the city Nikolai is handling whatever urgent matter pulled him away after midnight.

And somewhere else, instructions from Tracker are probably already being prepared.

For now though Theo watches the screen and lets the old movie carry him toward sleep, the platinum bracelet still cool against his wrist and the resolve inside him newly sharpened.

Nikolai might be all kinds of hot.

But Theo’s end goal will always be his driving force…

Morning light filters through the wide windows of the coffee shop a few blocks from Theo’s apartment.