CHAPTER 165: TERMS

"Miss me, Mrs O’Brien?" Marco’s voice dripped playfully from the other end of the phone. It was smooth, dangerous, and intimate in a way that made my skin crawl.

"How did you get this number?"

"I have resources. Surely you’ve figured that out by now."

"What do you want?"

"To congratulate you on your escape. That was quite a performance at the estate. Very impressive."

"Performance?" Anger flared hot in my chest. "You, your father and his men had me. I could have died."

"But you didn’t. You survived. You fought. That’s why you’re so fascinating, Layla. May I call you Layla?"

"No, you may not."

He laughed softly, clearly amused. "So formal. Even after I sent you a gift."

"I didn’t ask you for any gift. In fact, I don’t want your gifts."

"The bracelet doesn’t suit your taste? I can send something else. Rubies, perhaps? Emeralds to match your eyes?"

"I don’t want anything from you. Don’t send me anything, and don’t call me."

"Now where’s the fun in that? We have unfinished business, you and I."

"We have no business. Finished or otherwise."

"On the contrary. You and your company owe Sinaloa a considerable sum. That makes you very much my business."

My hand tightened on the phone. "We don’t owe you anything. Charles Watson stole that money, and you know it."

"Prove it."

"We will."

"I look forward to seeing your evidence. But until then, the debt stands." His voice dropped lower. "Which brings me to my real reason for calling."

"Which is?"

"I’d like to invite you to dinner, just the two of us. Let’s pick a place that’s neutral and public so we can chat about terms."

"Terms?"

"For extending your deadline. For keeping my father from becoming impatient. I can offer you protection, Layla. All you have to do is accept."

"I’m not having dinner with you."

"Not even to save your husband’s life? To save your own?"

"We’ll find another way."

"There is no other way. Not one that ends with both of you dead." there was a pause. "Think about it. You have my number now. Call me when you’re ready to be reasonable."

"Don’t hold your breath."

"Oh, I won’t. But Layla?" His voice turned cold. "Tick tock. The clock is running, and my father and his associates are not known for their patience. You have two weeks to provide proof of Charles’s theft. After that..." He left the threat hanging.

"After that, what?"

"After that, I won’t be able to help you anymore. And believe me, you want my help."

The line went dead.

I sat frozen, phone still pressed to my ear, staring at the diamond bracelet glittering on my desk. Two weeks. We had two weeks to find proof that Charles had stolen the Sinaloa’s money, or Marco’s protection, whatever that meant, would evaporate.

And then what? Another kidnapping? A bullet in the dark? An "accident" that would look perfectly legitimate?

I picked up the bracelet, feeling its weight in my palm.

It was beautiful, expensive, and it represented everything wrong with this situation: Marco’s wealth, his power, and his ability to reach me anywhere, at any time.

Just then, the office door opened. Axel walked in, with Tye right behind him. They must have come straight from whatever meeting they’d been in, both still in business attire, both looking serious.

"You okay?" Axel asked immediately, crossing to me. He probably noticed my pale expression.

I held up the bracelet, watching it catch the light. "From Marco. He called right after."

Axel’s expression darkened. "What did he say?"

I went on and narrated all that transpired on the call, word for word, watching their expressions shift from concern to calculation.

"Two weeks," Tye said, moving closer to examine the bracelet. "That’s actually more time than I expected. Marco must really want something from you. This is at least fifty grand worth of diamonds. He’s making a statement."

"That’s what worries me," Axel said in a tight voice.

Tye leaned against my desk, arms crossed. "The dinner’s actually perfect."

"Perfect?" I repeated. "How is any of this perfect?"

"Get him talking. Ask about the records they used to frame you, how they got them, what they contain, and who verified them. If you can get details, we can backtrace it. Find out who Charles had do the work for him. That’s our smoking gun."

"Absolutely not," Axel said immediately. "She’s not going anywhere near Marco Sinaloa."

"I’m not thrilled about it either," Tye said, "but it’s our best shot. Marco’s young and cocky, trying to impress daddy. He’ll talk if Layla plays it right."

"Play it right?" Axel’s voice rose. "She’s not bait, Tye. We’ll find another way."

"What other way?" Tye challenged. "We’ve been digging for a while and found nothing. Charles covered his tracks too well. But Marco? He’s our in. He wants something from Layla, which gives us leverage."

I looked between them, my mind racing.

The thought of sitting across from Marco, making small talk while trying to extract information, made my stomach turn. But Tye had a point; we were running out of options and time.

"I don’t like it," I said slowly, "but I think Tye’s right. This might be our only chance."

"Layla, no..."

"Hear me out." I stood, facing Axel. "Marco thinks he has the upper hand. He thinks I’m desperate, scared, and willing to do anything to save us. We can use that. Let him believe he’s winning while we get what we need."

Axel’s hands clenched into fists. "You’re talking about walking into a trap."

"I’m talking about setting one," I corrected. "For him, not us."

He paced the office, clearly looking agitated. "Fine. But not without conditions. You wear a wire. A full security detail follows at a distance. And it has to be completely public... a restaurant, witnesses everywhere."

"Agreed," I said.

"And at the first sign of trouble, the first wrong breath from him, you’re out of there. My team will be ready to extract you immediately."

"My team," Tye interjected. "I’ll handle the security. This is what I do, Axe. Trust me."

Axel turned on him. "If anything happens to her..."

"It won’t. Neutral ground, public setting, armed backup in every corner. I’ll even be there myself." Tye grinned slightly. "Thinking waiter. Maybe a sommelier. I’ve got the disguise skills."

"You in disguise?" I couldn’t help but smile. "That I have to see."

"Don’t underestimate me. I clean up nice when I need to."

Axel still looked unhappy, but some of the tension left his shoulders. "Okay. We do this, but we do it my way. Our way. Everything controlled, nothing left to chance."

"Everything controlled," I agreed.

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. "I don’t want you anywhere near that man."

"I know. But we’re out of options and time." I looked up at him. "And this might be our only shot at clearing our names."

"I know." He kissed my forehead. "I just... I can’t lose you. Not now. Not after everything."

"You won’t. We’re in this together, remember?"

"Together," he echoed, but his voice was still heavy with worry.

I pulled back, reaching for my phone. "I need to call him back. Set up the meeting before he changes his mind or adds more conditions."

"You sure you’re ready for this?" Tye asked.

"No. But when has that ever stopped us?"

I dialled the number Marco had called from, my heart pounding. He answered on the first ring, like he’d been waiting.

"Changed your mind, Layla?"

"One dinner," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Public restaurant. Neutral location. My rules."

"Your rules?" He sounded amused. "That’s adorable. But fine, we’ll play it your way. For now."

"Where and when?"

"La Sirena. Tomorrow night, eight PM. It’s on the waterfront, very public, and very neutral. You’ll love it."

"Fine."

"And Layla?" His voice dropped to that dangerous purr. "Wear the bracelet. I want to see it on your wrist when we toast to our new... understanding."

I looked at the diamonds glittering on my desk. "I’ll think about it."

"Don’t think too long. See you tomorrow, beautiful."