CHAPTER 52: THE SPOT

Chapter 52

JACE MARINO

It’s been three days and Aiko still hasn’t made a move. My father hasn’t said a word about her either, which means either he’s pretending everything’s fine or he’s too busy plotting what to do next. Both are bad signs.

The men I sent to watch her said things have been quiet. Too quiet. That kind of silence usually means something is crawling under the surface, waiting for the right moment to show its teeth.

I’ve been functioning fine, at least that’s what I tell myself. Work keeps me busy. Marco checks in every few hours. Mateo covers the logistics. And then there’s Julian.

We talked last night. He sounded tired, a little off. He tried to hide it but I know him too well now. It wasn’t the stress from exams. Something else happened, and he didn’t want to tell me. Maybe to protect me or maybe he thought I had too much on my plate or maybe because he thinks I’ll do something stupid. He’s probably right about that part.

When we hung up, I sat there for almost an hour, staring at the message he sent afterward. Just a simple "goodnight." But his tone was wrong. I replayed his voice in my head over and over until I fell asleep in the office chair.

Now it’s morning. I’m at the construction company, going through paperwork I don’t care about. The company’s one of the few legal fronts my father actually likes to show off. It keeps him clean in the public eye. He donates buildings to charity, pays the right people, smiles for the camera.

I know what happens behind it all. Everyone does. The difference is, I still try to make the legal parts run right. Maybe it’s stupid, but I like when something works without blood on it.

I was reading through some site reports when the front door slammed open so hard it echoed down the hallway. My heart dropped before I even saw him.

Detective Pole.

He didn’t wait for an invitation. He walked in like he owned the place, wearing that same dark coat and the same look of restrained anger. His voice hit before I could even stand up.

"I drove all the way from Brooklyn for this," he said. "You’re going to leave my son alone."

I blinked once and set the papers down. "Detective."

He kept walking toward my desk. "Don’t play nice with me, Marino. You’ve done enough. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you’re not dragging my son into it."

His face was red. His jaw tight. For a second, I thought about offering him water, but I knew that would only make it worse.

"Respectfully, I can’t do that," I said. "Julian’s involved now. You might not like it, but it’s the truth. I can’t leave him now, when he’s been marked as my weakness"

Pole laughed, but it wasn’t the kind that ends with a smile. "You think that makes it better? You think I’m just going to stand here and let a Marino destroy my kid’s life? My father couldn’t get your father behind bars, but you—" he pointed at me, shaking with anger "—you I can take down. I’ll make sure he sees the kind of man you are. Mark my words, Jace."

He stood there for a few seconds longer, breathing hard, waiting for me to say something that would give him an excuse to hit me or pull something worse. I didn’t. I just looked at him, steady.

Then he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

The echo stayed long after he left.

I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my face. It’s not like I didn’t expect this day to come. He’s a father. If someone like me showed up in Julian’s life, I’d do the same. Still, hearing the words stung. I don’t scare easy, but the thought of losing Julian, or worse, having him turned against me—it messes with me.

I reached for my phone and dialed Dominic. He answered on the second ring.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Drive to the company. I need to go to the spot."

There was a pause. "The spot? You sure?"

"Yeah. Now."

The "spot" was one of our old code words. It meant the underground fighting den we used for money laundering and testing new recruits. It’s not the kind of place I like to go anymore, but someone has to keep an eye on it. If it fails, my father will assume I let it. And when my father assumes things, people disappear.

When Dominic arrived, I stepped outside and climbed into the car. The city felt heavy that morning. Rain clouds pressed down like a lid over everything. Dominic didn’t talk much. Neither did I.

We drove for nearly thirty minutes before turning into a narrow alley that led to an underground parking garage. From there, we went through a locked stairwell, down two flights, and into a thick, humid hallway that smelled of sweat and cheap alcohol.

The den was still running, even this early. Fights never really stopped here. Some guys fought for cash, others for pride. The real business was the money that flowed under the table.

When I walked in, the man in charge, Russo, froze like he’d seen a ghost. He rushed over, nervous smile plastered on his face.

"Mr. Marino. Didn’t expect you today."

"Clearly," I said, looking around. "You’re behind on reports again."

He scratched the back of his neck. "About that..."

"Don’t." I cut him off and gestured toward the back office. "Inside."

He followed me in, shutting the door behind us. Papers were stacked on the desk, half of them blank.

"You know my father wants those accounts by tomorrow morning," I said. "You’ve missed two updates already."

Russo swallowed hard. "The boys have been losing a lot lately. Bets aren’t coming in like before. We—uh—we’ve been trying to recover the losses. It’s been rough."

"Rough," I repeated, sitting down. "That’s not an answer."

He looked ready to cry. "Please, Mr. Marino. I swear I’ll fix it. Just give me more time."

I stared at him for a while. My father would’ve pulled his gun by now or sent Dominic to do it for him. I’m not my father. I don’t like killing men who can still be useful.

"How much?" I asked.

He hesitated. "One seventy, maybe one eighty. We’ll make it back, I swear."

I sighed. "I’ll cover it. Out of my own account."

He looked stunned. "You—what?"

"Don’t make me regret it," I said. "You’ve got one week to rebuild. I’ll send new boys from the north block. They can actually fight. We’ll use them to bring in bets again. After that, if the numbers don’t rise, I’ll let my father deal with you."

Russo nodded so fast I thought his neck might snap. "Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. Marino. I won’t let you down."

"You already did," I said, standing. "Don’t do it again."

I walked out before he could say another word. Dominic was waiting near the door.

"Problem handled?" he asked.

"For now."

He nodded, knowing that meant no.

We left the den and stepped back into the cold afternoon air. The city was still gray and wet, but I could finally breathe a little. Sometimes I wonder what kind of life I could’ve had if I stayed away from all this. I used to think I could balance both worlds. Be the professor by day and the silent guardian by night.

But the two worlds are bleeding together now. Julian’s name is on too many lips. My father’s patience is wearing thin. The detective’s threat still rings in my head.

I checked my phone again. No message. No call. Nothing from Julian.

That quiet—his quiet—bothers me more than any enemy ever could.

I want to drive to Brooklyn just to see him but I can’t. I know I’m being watched. There are men keeping an eye on me and I can’t risk leading them to Julian. They’d use him against me. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong with him and it’s eating at me.

I got back in the car. Dominic started the engine and looked at me through the mirror. "Where to, boss?"

"Home," I said. Then after a second, "And Dominic—get two more men on Julian. Keep them far enough so he doesn’t notice, but close enough to step in if something happens."

"Got it."

As we drove off, I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. Somewhere in my chest, the guilt settled heavier than before.

Every time I think I can protect both worlds, something cracks. My brothers, my father, Julian. They’re all orbiting the same bomb, and I’m the one trying to keep it from going off.

But if Detective Pole wants to come for me, he’ll have to get in line.

Because the only thing I know for sure is this. No one touches my boy.

Not while I’m still breathing.