SIN FOR ME PAPACITO

He doesn't play with her

Aloha Business Suite]

Leo leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly beneath his weight with is controlled emotionless expression. The man across from him is also with the same facial expression,with a heavy gold signet ring and a face that had seen too many rich dinner, his pudgy fingers moving with deliberate care.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Voss," the man saidself-satisfied. He extended a hand across the table.

Leo took it. His grip was brief, firm. "The pleasure is mine, Lord Harrow. I trust the terms are satisfactory."

"More than satisfactory." Harrow chuckled, "You drive a hard bargain, I'll give you that. But fair. Always fair. That's what I appreciate about you, Voss. You're a man of your word."

Leo leaned and said nothing nothing. He had learned long years ago that he started his business that silence was a weapon, that words were currency best spent sparingly. He began to gather his copy of the documents, sliding them into a leather portfolio.

Harrow seemed disinclined to let the meeting end. He remained seated, his bulk sprawling across the chair, his fingers drumming absently on the table. His eyes studied Leo with a blank expression

"You know," Harrow said, "I was at the Vouge ' soiree last week. Quite the affair. Champagne, dancing, the usual parade of titled nobodies trying to impress one another. But there was one face I didn't expect to see."

Leo's hands stilled on the portfolio. Only for a second. He resumed his motion, his expression

"Is that so?"

"Oh, yes." Harrow leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Diava Rhiss. Or should I say, Diava now? She was there, looking radiant as ever. Quite the scandal when she left the Rhiss family, you know. The b***h is a slut"

Leo's blood turned to ice.He had built his empire on discipline, on the iron will that allowed him to smile at enemies while plotting their ruin. But this. This was different.

" You might not want to say that again," he said, his voice flat. "Her name is Diava and I would thank you for referring to her as such."

Harrow waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, of course, of course. No offense intended. It's just-well, one can't help but wonder, can one? The way she left. The timing. It was all very... sudden. Very public. There were rumors, you know. Terrible things said about her character. About her loyalty."

Leo's jaw was so tight he could feel the grinding of his molars. He forced himself to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Calm. Controlled.

"I don't pay attention to rumors," he said. "They are the currency of the small-minded."

Harrow laughed, . "Oh, I don't know. Sometimes rumors have a kernel of truth. Take the Rhiss family, for example. They said she abandoned them in their hour of need. Left them to face their enemies alone while she ran off with-" He paused, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Well, with someone backing her."

Leo's hand moved.His fingers found the knife in his boot a slim, vicious blade with a hilt wrapped in black leather—and before Harrow could even register the motion, the blade was buried in the man's hand.

The knife sank into the fleshy part of Harrow's palm, pinning it to the oak table between them. The impact was solid, the blade biting deep into the wood, and Harrow's scream was cut short by his own shock.

For a moment, there was silence. Harrow stared at his hand, at the knife protruding from it, at the blood that was already pooling around the blade. His face went pale, then white, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for water.

Leo rose from his chair. He moved with the fluid grace of a predator, rounding the table until he stood beside Harrow, looking down at the man's pained, terrified face.

"I told you," Leo said softly, "to mind your business."

Harrow's eyes were wide, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "You-you stabbed me. You actually-"

"I pinned you," Leo corrected."If I had stabbed you, you would be dead. There is a difference. One you would do well to remember."

He reached down and placed his hand on the knife's hilt. Harrow whimpered, his body tensing in r pain.

"Now," Leo continued, "I am going to ask you a question, and you are going to answer it truthfully. Do you understand?"

Harrow nodded frantically.

"Good." Leo twisted the knife, just enough to make Harrow gasp. "Where did you hear those things about Phina?"

"I-I-" Harrow's voice was high and reedy, stripped of all its earlier smugness. "Everyone knows! The Rhiss family-they talk-it's all anyone talks about-"

"Who specifically?" Leo pressed. "Which members of the Rhiss family?"

"Lord Alistair," Harrow gasped. "And his son. And the dowager countess. They speak openly about it at every function. They say-they say she betrayed them. That she sold their secrets to their enemies. That she-"

"That she what?"

Harrow's face was slick with sweat. His hand was bleeding freely now, the blood dripping onto the documents they had just signed. The ink was smearing, the contracts ruined.

"That she was never faithful to them," Harrow whispered. "That she was always waiting for an opportunity to leave. That she never really belonged."

Leo pulled the knife free.

Harrow screamed, a raw, animal sound, and clutched his wounded hand to his chest. Leo wiped the blade clean on Harrow sleeve, then slid it back into his boot. He looked down at the man with the same expression he might give a particularly unpleasant insect.

"Let me make something very clear," Leo said. "You will speak Phina again, and the next time, I will not stop at your hand. I will pin you to this table by your throat, and I will watch the light leave your eyes. Do you understand me?"

Harrow nodded, sobbing now, his tears cutting tracks through the sweat on his cheeks.

"Do. You. Understand. Me?"

"Yes," Harrow choked out. "Yes, I understand. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please-please don't kill me-"

Leo smiled,the smile of a man who had done terrible things and would do them again without hesitation.

"I'm not going to kill you, Lord Harrow. Not today. Today, you are going to sit here and think about what you've said. You are going to remember this moment every time you open your mouth to speak about Phina. And then, when you've had time to reflect, you are going to contact me and apologize. In writing. And you are going to make it clear that the rumors were false."

He turned and walked toward the door.

"The documents," he said, not looking back. "They are void. The ink is ruined. I will have new ones drawn up, and you will sign them again, at a time and place of my choosing. If you refuse, or if you attempt to renegotiate, I will ruin you."

He paused at the door, his hand on the brass handle.

"Not by killing you," he added. "That would be too merciful. I will ruin your reputation. I will expose every one of your little secrets. I will make you a pariah in your own circles, and then I will watch you fall."

He opened the door and stepped into the corridor, leaving Harrow slumped over the table, clutching his bleeding hand and sobbing into the ruined documents.

---

His driver was waiting for him , and when the driver saw him coming he opened the door, Leo climbed inside, and the door closed behind him with a soft thud. He sat in the darkness.

It had been years since he see blood fresh like that. Years since he had let his anger get the better of him. He had built his life on discipline, on the careful, calculated application of violence when necessary.

But they speak ill of Diava.

He closed his eyes and saw her face. The way she smiled while drawing . The way she laughed, free . The way she come to him two days ago, terrified and desperate, with nothing but a plea for help.

He known who she was. He known the danger of taking her in. And he did it anyway, because the moment he saw her, he had known he would do anything to protect her.

He still would.

The car moved, and Leo allowed himself to slump back into the seat.

The Rhiss family has connections. They have influence. And they clearly has no intention of letting Diava's departure go unpunished. Harrow was just the first. There would be others.

But that was a problem for another day.

He meant every word he said to Harrow. The man will apologize, in writing, or he would suffer the consequences.

But that was just the beginning.