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But I’m stuck on one word. “You named him Leo?”
She stares at me, and I stare back, and for one brief second, I’m eighteen again, watching a stranger blush.
Lyla nods. I exhale, dreading what I have to say.
“I’m in charge of a powerful organization, Lyla. It’s why I left so suddenly back then—I had to take over unexpectedly. It’s why I didn’t say good-bye. I didn’t want to lie about why I had to go, and the less you knew, the better.”
“You’re a criminal.” In her even, quiet voice, it’s somehow the harshest insult I’ve ever heard.
“Technically, yes.”
“Technically? We’re having this conversation, surrounded by men with guns.”
“Fine. Yes, I’m a criminal.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” She exhales, then shakes her head. “Alex could have been more specific.”
“What did he say?”
Sharp, intelligent eyes lock on mine. “Why?”
“Because he shouldn’t have said a thing.”
Lyla pales. “He’s involved? In your…organization?”
“He works for me.”
“He’s a doctor.”
“Yes.”
“What the hell kind of company needs a doctor?”
“A dangerous one.”
Lyla’s eyes widen, letting me see the resolve in them harden. “The only reason I’m here is, I was worried more men would come back, and I had no idea who to trust. I’m going to leave with my son now, and I’m going to go to the police. I won’t mention your name, but if you come near me again, I will. I can’t—”
“You’re going nowhere, Lyla.” I give a nod to Viktor, and then men start boarding the plane. I don’t want them witnessing this, and I’m hoping it’ll relax Lyla some, having them out of sight. “I’m sorry you’re involved now. I really am. But this is a matter of life and death. If you stay here, if you go to the police, you’ll be killed. And so will Leo.”
I stutter over my son’s name, but Lyla appears too horrified to notice. “You’re—I don’t—”
“I’m a powerful person. Powerful people have powerful enemies. They’ll torture you and dump you in a ditch to die.” I state it matter-of-factly, trying not to scare her, but impress on her the seriousness of the situation. Especially since I know full well Bianchi will do worse than that.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. Iwouldn’tlie to you about this, Lyla.”
I watch her face crumple. Watch her try to hold it together. If I were a different man, I’d step forward and hug her.
But if I were that man, we wouldn’t be having this conversation to begin with.
“Get Leo and get on the plane, Lyla.”
Her eyes dart around, wide and worried. “I—I have work in the morning. Leo has school. He wants a dog, but our apartment won’t allow them, so I’m supposed to pick up a cat from the shelter next week. I’m dating someone. I have bills, rent. They’ll repossess the apartment and tow my car, and I don’t—”
I step forward and grab her shoulders. Her nervous babbling stops.
“Lyla.You don’t have a choice.”
