The Mafia Boss Thought His Secretary Betrayed Him — Until He Found Her Scrubbing Diner Floors To Pay A Debt His Empire Created

PART 11

Weston stepped through the broken frame, carrying no visible weapon.

“You come closer, I shoot her.”

“Are you hurt?” Weston asked Wren.

“My arm. Nothing else.”

“Callan,” Weston said, “you entered my office because you stole from me.”

“She’s lying.”

“The repair shop invoices were flagged yesterday.” That was also a lie. Weston had understood her strategy instantly.

Callan’s grip loosened in shock. Wren seized the letter opener and drove its blunt handle into the nerve above his wrist. The gun fell. Owen crossed the room and drove Callan to the floor.

Wren staggered forward. Weston caught her, his hands checking for blood.

“Your neck.”

“He pressed the barrel there. It didn’t fire.”

Weston’s hands trembled once. Then he turned toward Callan.

“Boss, I was scared. She was going to accuse me.”

“You held a gun beneath her jaw.”

Wren caught his sleeve. “Do not kill him because of me.”

“What do you want?” Weston asked her.

“His crews need to be separated from him. His gambling rooms should be closed until the books are audited. Send Callan away. Permanently. Alive. Let everyone know he lost his operation because he stole and threatened an employee. Not because of a romance. Not because I am your property.”

Weston nodded. “Owen, take him downstairs. Silas will arrange relocation.”