Chapter 84

Chapter 84
Diego

Falling back into routine with Landon is remarkably easy—almost unsettling in its simplicity. We move around each other as if betrayal never carved its shadow between us. Yet I see it in him. The hesitation when his hand reaches for mine, the fleeting shadows that cross his eyes, are reminders of the scars we both carry. He still bears the weight of it, though he tries to hide it.

I don’t dwell on that. I’ve come to realize that everything we endured was meant to happen. The betrayal had to cut us open in order to deepen our bond, to strip away illusions and force me to see the truth: I cannot live without Landon by my side.

In the days following our meeting with the other families, I try not to hover. I go to work for a few hours, conducting business as usual, but I return home quickly, unable to stay away from him. Each evening, I hold him close, as though he might vanish if I let go, as though my arms are the only tether keeping him here.

And yet, even in the comfort of routine, I plan. I plan for Antonio’s downfall. His betrayal is a wound I cannot forgive, sharper than I ever imagined possible. I try not to think of our history—the laughter we shared, the nights of camaraderie, even the tears when his father died. Those memories threaten to pull me under like quicksand, suffocating me with what was lost. Every day is a battle not to drown in them.

I question myself constantly. Why do those closest to me find betrayal so easy? What does that say about me as a leader, as a man? It gnaws at me, whispering that I’ve failed to protect my family, failed to inspire loyalty.

The only thing that keeps me sane when those thoughts threaten to consume me is Landon. It’s as if he senses the storm inside me. He’ll take my hand, press his palm to my cheek, and speak with a quiet conviction that cuts through the noise:

“Just like you saw the worth in me, you are just as worthy. Betrayal is the easiest part. Forgiveness is harder. But we don’t forgive them for them—we forgive them for us. So we can walk with our heads held high. Don’t let Antonio’s betrayal weigh you down. Look at it as something that had to happen. You wouldn’t be who you are without the hurt of that betrayal. Breathe through it, stretch it out, shake it off, and let it go. Even in betrayal, lies, and secrecy, life goes on. It stops for no one. Just keep living. Your men respect you. They are grateful for everything you do. Focus on that—on the people who matter. Antonio will get what he deserves, and then we will close that chapter.”

His words wash over me like a tide, steady and relentless. Assurance. That’s what he gives me—assurance that the fault lies not within me, but in those who chose betrayal. Landon was the exception, not the rule.

One evening, with about a month left before the deal goes down, Landon and I sit together in the study, the table between us scattered with notes and outlines of the plan. The lamp casts a warm glow, shadows stretching across the walls, wrapping the room in quiet intensity.

Landon leans forward, his voice steady but edged with tension. “Price wants me to be there to coordinate the takedown.”

My brows furrow instantly, the thought of him in the line of fire tightening my chest. “I don’t like that,” I say, my tone sharper than I intend. “I don’t want you caught in the crosshairs of what might happen that day.”

He shakes his head, resolute. “I think it’s the only way to really convince them that I haven’t turned on them.”

I study him for a long moment, then let out a slow breath, my brows easing. “Okay,” I murmur reluctantly. “I can see why that would matter.”

A faint smile touches his lips, soft but certain. “Diego, I feel I should tell you—I don’t plan on working for the Agency much longer. I want to step all in with you. I want to fully be a part of your world. I’ll stay long enough to ensure they aren’t watching you anymore, and then…I think I’ll resign.”

His words strike me with a mix of relief and longing. I reach across the table, taking his hand in mine, my thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Whatever you think is best,” I murmur. “While I’d love you to stay in the Agency to keep them off my tail, I think I’d love it even more if you were all in with my family.”

His smile widens, brighter than before, carrying a weight of promise. “That’s what I want. I want to be an integral part of your family.”

I lift my hand, running a finger down his cheek to the curve of his neck, delighting in the shiver that ripples through him. “You already are,” I whisper. “You’ve made a way to keep us all safe. There’s no way I could thank you enough for going against your code of ethics to stand with a criminal.”

He looks at me from beneath his lashes, his voice low but unwavering. “You made the most out of the hand you were dealt in life. I could never fault you for that.”

A shiver of want passes through me at his words, sharp and undeniable. Sometimes I can’t believe how much I crave this man. From the moment I met him, I was intent on making him mine. And now that he is mine, I can imagine no other way.

After we finish going over the plan, I leave Landon in the living room, his book open in his hands, the soft lamplight catching on his hair. I walk slowly down the corridor, each step deliberate, until I reach the heavy door that leads to the dungeon. The hinges groan as I push it open, the sound echoing against stone walls.

Antonio lies on the cot, his breathing deep and uneven, feigning sleep or perhaps lost in it. The air smells faintly of antiseptic and iron, the lingering reminder of wounds not yet healed. I move closer, my boots striking against the floor, and with a sharp motion, I kick the bed.

He jolts upright, a grunt tearing from his throat as pain pulls at the half-healed gashes across his back. His eyes widen, darting to me with a mix of fear and obedience.

“Another month,” I say, my voice low, deliberate. “And you’ll have your chance to prove yourself. To prove your loyalty.”

He nods quickly, almost too quickly. “Yes, boss. Anything you need.”

The word grates against me, sharp as glass. Boss. My jaw tightens, teeth grinding. “Just make sure you’re resting. Your wounds need to heal fully.”

He nods again, head bowed, the submission almost theatrical. I watch him for a moment longer, searching for cracks in his performance, then turn and walk out, the door closing behind me with a heavy thud.

The silence of the dungeon fades as I climb back up, replaced by the warmth of the living room. Landon is still there, waiting, his presence steady and grounding. I sit beside him, the tension in my chest easing as I lean my head against his shoulder.

This man is mine. My anchor.

He is my greatest weakness. But tonight, as his hand tightens around mine and his eyes hold mine steady, I know he is also my greatest strength.