Chapter 3 - The Sanctuary of Wolves
The guest suite in the Casaro estate felt less like a room and more like a presidential wing in a five-star European hotel. High ceilings adorned with neoclassical moldings, a massive velvet-upholstered bed, and a private marble balcony overlooking the snow-dusted gardens of the Hudson Valley.
I sat on the edge of the mattress, wrapped in an oversized silk bathrobe one of the housekeepers had silently delivered, staring blankly at the crackling wood fire in the marble hearth.
My phone had buzzed thirteen times in twenty minutes.
Ten missed calls from Nico. Three frantic, rambling text messages from Chloe trying to explain away the bet as a "misunderstanding."
I didn't answer a single one. Instead, I blocked both of their numbers, powered the device down, and tossed it onto the nightstand.
A soft knock sounded at the heavy oak door.
“Come in,” I said, not turning around.
The door clicked open, and heavy, measured footsteps crossed the Persian rug. A moment later, a heavy wool overcoat was draped carefully over my shoulders, accompanied by a steaming mug of hot chamomile tea.
I looked up. Leo Casaro stood beside me, having discarded his suit jacket, his white dress shirt rolled up at the elbows, revealing muscular forearms etched with old scars.
“You’re still awake,” he observed, pulling a velvet armchair closer to the fireplace and sitting down.
“My entire life imploded in the span of an hour,” I replied dryly, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic mug. “Sleeping seems a bit premature.”
Leo let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Fair point.”
“Why are you doing this, Leo?” I asked, turning my head to meet his steady gray eyes. “Why shelter me? Why hit your own son? You could have just smoothed it over, given me a check to go away quietly, and let Nico marry someone from his own social circle. That’s what a ruthless mob boss is supposed to do, right?”
Leo rested his elbows on his knees, staring into the flickering flames. The firelight cast deep shadows across his face, accentuating the silver at his temples and the hard lines of his jaw.
“You think I’m a monster, Myra?” he asked quietly.
“I think you run an empire built on blood, extortion, and fear,” I answered honestly. “That doesn’t make you a monster in your world. It makes you a king. But kings don’t usually care about waitresses from Brooklyn.”
“Kings care about leverage, honor, and debts,” Leo said, turning his head to look directly at me. “When your father took that bullet for me—for my men—he didn’t ask how much it would cost. He didn’t hesitate. He threw himself into the line of fire because he believed in a code of loyalty that my own son is too spoiled, too arrogant, and too empty to ever understand.”
He leaned forward, his voice dropping into a register that sent a strange, intoxicating warmth through my veins.
“For eight months, I watched you work three jobs, sacrifice your youth, and smile through your exhaustion just to keep your family afloat, believing all the while that you were paying off a debt to a man who didn’t lift a finger to help you. That wasn’t just cruel, Myra. It was a failure of my household. And a Casaro never leaves a debt unpaid.”
“And what about Nico?” I asked. “He’s your flesh and blood.”
“Nico is a disappointment,” Leo said bluntly, without a shred of paternal hesitation. “He treats people like disposable commodities. He thinks the Casaro name gives him the right to take whatever he wants without consequence. Tonight, he learned that consequences exist.”
“He’s going to hate you for this,” I warned softly.
“He already did,” Leo replied evenly. “He just didn’t have the spine to admit it.”
We sat in silence for a long time, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, the weight of the outside world melting away beneath the heavy oak doors of the estate. For the first time in months, I didn’t feel like I was drowning. I felt... anchored.
“What happens tomorrow?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
May you like
Leo stood up, walking toward the double doors. He paused with his hand on the brass handle, turning back to look at me one last time.
“Tomorrow,” Leo said with a faint, dangerous smile, “we invite your father to breakfast here at the estate. And we begin teaching your ex-fiancé what it truly means to lose everything.”
