Chapter 46 -
Micheal released Nia immediately, stepping back with his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. But there was something defiant in the set of his shoulders, something that suggested he had been waiting for this confrontation.
"We are just talking," Micheal said, his tone trying for casual but missing by miles. "Enjoying the night air. What is the problem?"
"We are just talking," Leo repeated, tasting the words like they were poison. He took a step onto the balcony, and suddenly the space seemed impossibly smaller. The night air, which had felt cool and expansive moments before, became thick and suffocating. "That is what you want me to believe. That you have been out here, alone, with my prisoner, just talking."
"She is not your property, Leo," Micheal said, and his voice had lost all pretense of lightness. "She is a person. And she is scared. And sometimes people who are scared need to talk to someone who understands what that feels like."
Leo's gaze flickered toward Micheal for just a moment before zeroing back in on Nia. She felt the weight of his attention like a physical force, pinning her to the spot. His eyes moved over her face, taking in the tear tracks on her cheeks, the way her hair had fallen loose from its careful arrangement, the way her dress had been disturbed by Micheal's embrace.
"I said it is over," Leo said, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper. "Now."
He moved toward Nia with purpose, his movements controlled but radiating barely leashed violence. When he reached her, he did not grab her roughly, did not yank her away like some common thug. Instead, his hand closed around her upper arm with a firmness that left no room for negotiation. His grip was not painful, not quite, but it was absolutely immovable. A statement of possession and control wrapped in the illusion of gentleness.
"Leo, come on," Micheal said, taking a step forward. "Do not do this."
"Do what?" Leo replied, not even looking at his brother. His entire focus remained fixed on Nia, his eyes burning with something she could not quite name. Anger, certainly. But underneath that, something that looked almost like fear. "I am simply escorting Miss Wallace back to her room where she belongs."
"She was with me," Micheal protested. "She was safe."
"She is safe because I allow her to be safe," Leo said, his voice taking on an edge that made even Micheal flinch. "She remains breathing because I have decided that breathing is preferable to the alternative. And that privilege can be revoked at any moment. So when I say she stays in her room, she stays in her room. When I say she does not fraternize with members of this family, she does not fraternize. Is that understood?"
Nia felt the urge to protest, to pull her arm free and tell him exactly what she thought of his possessiveness. But something in his expression stopped her. Something that went beyond anger into genuine panic. Leo was scared. Actually, truly frightened beneath all that controlled fury.
Of what, though? Santiago's threats? Her involvement with Micheal? Or something else entirely?
"Back to your room," Leo said to Nia, his voice brooking no argument. "Now."
He did not wait for her to comply. Instead, he simply turned and began walking, his grip on her arm pulling her along in his wake. Nia had little choice but to follow, her feet scrambling slightly on the smooth marble of the balcony before she found her footing. Matteo appeared seemingly from nowhere, falling into step behind them as they moved back into the mansion.
The contrast between the cool night air and the warm, humid interior was jarring. The music had grown louder, more frantic. The party was reaching its peak, bodies moving against each other on the dance floor, drinks flowing, the machinery of DeSanto hospitality grinding forward without pause. No one seemed to notice that the Enforcer was dragging a woman through the crowd. Or if they did notice, they had the good sense to look away.
Leo moved with the certainty of someone navigating familiar territory, his stride long and purposeful. He did not acknowledge anyone who tried to speak to him, did not slow or hesitate. His entire being was focused on one thing: getting Nia away from the public eye and back into the controlled confines of her room.
They climbed the main staircase, the marble cool beneath Nia's feet. The second floor hallway loomed ahead, quieter than the public spaces below. The sounds of the party faded to a muted thump, distant and unreal.
When they reached Nia's door, Leo released her arm and pushed the door open, his movements sharp with controlled aggression. He gestured for her to enter, his expression absolutely unreadable now. Whatever had been visible in his eyes on the balcony had been carefully locked away.
"Thank you, Matteo," Leo said coldly, not looking at his guard. "You are dismissed."
"Boss, I do not think it is wise to leave you alone with her," Matteo said carefully. "Given your current state of mind."
"I do not recall asking for your opinion," Leo replied. "Leave. Now."
Matteo hesitated, his jaw clenching as he clearly struggled with the conflict between his sense of duty and his orders. Finally, he nodded curtly and withdrew down the hallway, his footsteps echoing against the marble.
Leo stepped into the room, closed the door, and turned to face Nia. The sound of the lock clicking into place seemed extraordinarily loud.
Nia did not wait for him to speak. The moment the door was closed, the moment they were alone, something in her cracked open. All the fear and confusion and impossible hope that had been building throughout the evening poured out of her in a rush of rage.
"What is your problem?" she demanded, her voice shaking with emotion. "I was doing nothing wrong. I was standing on a balcony. I was talking to someone who actually treats me like a human being instead of a problem that needs to be solved."