Chapter 33
Leilani
Since day one, every time something doesn’t happen according to Koby’s internally laid out plan, he retreats inside his head, pouts, and shuts me out.
He sulks in silence until the air around him feels toxic.
I can knock on the bathroom door three times and he won’t answer, even though I know he’s inside.
He’ll sit on the edge of the tub, staring at nothing, chewing his cheek raw while I rattle off reassurances that never calm him down.
I’ve learned to recognize the signs. The way his jaw sets, the way his eyes drift away from me, the way he’s too busy worrying to notice my presence as he walks into the room.
The first time was when he didn’t kiss me in the bathroom and spent days drowning in regret.
Then before my visit to Hailey’s, Koby was too busy spiraling over what-ifs to stop and realize I’d be fine.
I expected the same when we got back from Chicago on Sunday morning after spending the better part of Saturday locked in Dante’s office. I expected distance. I thought he’d hide inside his head and ignore me.
I was wrong.
It’s Tuesday now, and instead of pulling away, Koby’s been glued to my side. He’s obsessively clingy in a way that makes my chest ache and my brain overheat. He follows me everywhere. To the kitchen, to the bedroom, to the fucking bathroom.
He stands outside while I pee...
At night, he wakes me up—or doesn’t—rolls me under him, and pushes inside me without a word.
He’s driving me insane with the way he keeps circling back to the plan we carved out in Dante’s office.
It was fascinating seeing the guys work.
Carter’s methodology took the lead, the others questioning every detail and step. Ryder was all about the tech: phone jamming, surveillance, and things I didn’t even try comprehending. Broadway took over logistics: how, where, when, and Koby’s only focus was my safety.
Dante listened, throwing one-liners that forced everyone to look from a different perspective while Noretto’s voice crackled through the speakerphone as he filled us in about the guest list, the allies we could rely on, and the auction itself.
We talked for hours, nitpicking until we were left with the cleanest, tightest version.
That should’ve been the end of it, but it’s Tuesday evening, and Koby hasn’t stopped talking since Saturday. Every hour of every day he’s stressing over a new detail.
Carter can’t be far off blocking his number. Koby’s called him at least ten times today, demanding clarification over things we’ve already hammered out.
His fingers never stop moving. One minute he’s drawing circles on my hip, the next he’s tapping my ribs like he’s counting seconds. His leg twitches against mine, his jaw ticks, and every few minutes he buries his face in my hair, inhaling deeply.
He keeps me pinned to him as if it will keep me from slipping away. His breath warms the back of my neck, but there’s no calm in him, every muscle tense.
“Run me through it again,” he whispers in my hair.
I sigh, half-exasperated, half-melting into him. “We’ve been through it a hundred times.”
“I know. What I don’t know is how to stop worrying, so do me a favor and make it a hundred and one.”
I’m this close to smothering him with a pillow, I swear.
“Octavius arrives at Noretto’s in Pittsburgh mid-morning on Saturday,” I recite. “As soon as we know he’s aboard his private yet, Ryder will do his thing, so Anton can’t contact his brother.”
“He’ll jam Anton’s outgoing calls to Octavius,” Koby recites.
“That’s what I said.”
He chuckles, but there’s little humor in that sound. “When we’re certain Anton can’t reach Octavius...” I pause, the next part of the plan bitter in my mouth.
“Then you call him,” Koby grits out, fingers sinking a little harder into my flesh.
“Yes. I call him.”
For me, that’s the hardest part. I need to be convincing enough that Anton’s rational thinking takes a vacation and he’s all emotional response. It means I must be hysterical... crying, begging him to come get me before it’s too late.
Anton always turned frantic at the first glimpse of my tears. He cradled my face, kissed my cheeks, and did his utmost to calm me down. Now I’ve got to weaponize that reaction... I have to fake my distress until he can’t think straight.
Playing shy or scared isn’t an issue, but crying on command, freaking out in a believable way might be above my pay grade. I can’t imagine working myself up this badly... and the whole plan hinges on my performance.
“I’ll tell him I overheard them planning to sell me. That I haven’t been in Florida for weeks, that I’m in Pittsburgh, and I’m scared.”
If I sell it right, Anton will snap the same way as when my stepmother’s executioner aimed his gun at me.
And to exact revenge on his brother, to find me and grab me, he’ll have no other option than driving all the way to Pittsburgh.
We’ve checked every possible flight connection, and not one lands in time for Anton to make the auction.
“It’s a fifteen-hour drive,” Koby says.
Which is why I’ll call him around eight in the morning. Octavius should be in the air by then, and the heads-up will give Anton fourteen hours before the auction starts. Sixteen before it ends.
Koby slips his hand beneath the hem of my shirt, his palm full of my hip, fingers sinking into my flesh. He’s been holding on to me for dear life since Dante’s men took Hailey, Bianca, and Violet to the safe house.
“You know the rest,” I whisper.
“Don’t stop now. Keep going.”
I close my eyes and curl into him, inhaling the soap and leather clinging to his skin. “We’re expecting Anton to arrive sometime mid-auction.”
His grip hardens again, and I know he’s picturing Anton barging in, gun raised, fury overtaking the room.
At first, Carter wanted to do it differently. He wanted the confrontation on Friday at Noretto’s mansion, but without witnesses, the heat for Octavius’s death would fall on Noretto and maybe Carter, and a war would break out.
Witnesses are key, so that plan was scrapped and the auction became our focus. It sounded cleaner in Dante’s office while we picked it apart piece by piece. In reality, it’s a lot messier.
“There are still too many question marks,” Koby says, flipping onto his back, one arm draped over his eyes, frustration evident in every line of his handsome face.
“What happens when Anton arrives? Octavius’s allies might shoot him on the spot.
Anton might bring his own men. What happens after he kills Octavius?
Bullets could fly everywhere. It was a blood bath the last time we were there, finding Violet for Broadway.
Someone might even try taking down Noretto while he’s exposed. ”
Risks upon risks. We spent hours chewing them down until nothing else could be said, but we can’t control everything, only prepare for the eventualities we can identify.
“That’s why Noretto’s hand-picking the guest list,” I remind him, pressing my lips to his shoulder.
The auction guest list will mainly consist of Octavius’s allies and a few neutrals, surrounded by loyal men who’ll shoot if the neutrals as much as finger their holsters.
Koby exhales a long, exasperated breath, then flips onto his side, his face hanging over mine. “There’s still time, hellcat. We can come up with a new plan. We can—”
“Enough.” I press my finger to his lips. “I can walk you through the plan ten times a day, but you don’t get to talk me out of this.”
The pained expression marring his face morphs into determination as he dips to kiss my forehead. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I know.”
He settles beside me but doesn’t relax. His fingers wander, twitching against my hip, then slipping under my shorts. That’s been the rhythm of these last days: his worry translating into hunger. A constant need to ensure I’m here, real, his.
My legs part a little, giving him better access. I’d much rather have his hard body pinning me to the mattress than his restless mind dissecting the plan for the tenth time today.
But instead of checking if I’m wet and ready, he cups my pussy and continues the interrogation.
“What’s next, Leilani?”
I shift to face him, throwing my leg over his hip. “Seriously? Just fuck me already.”
He chuckles. “You’re the only thing that shuts my brain up. I can’t sleep without running through fifty different ways this could go wrong unless I feel you falling apart beneath me first, but not until you walk me through the whole thing, so... positions.”
I slap his chest and elbow his ribs for good measure. “Fine. You and Ryder will be on the auction floor.”
That one took a while to nail down. Koby shot down any plan that didn’t put him with me. He fought Carter and Noretto until they relented, his voice raw from yelling. I think Carter only gave in because he imagined himself in Koby’s place.
We settled on a simple, believable solution; Koby and Ryder will arrive late, and if Octavius asks, Noretto will say they’re there to speak with him on Carter’s behalf. No details, because those shouldn’t matter. We’re counting on Octavius being dead before the last gavel falls.
Koby’s hand slides higher, cupping my breast now, thumb grazing over the thin fabric.
“You’re driving me crazy,” I whisper, arching into his touch.
“That’s fair. You drive me crazier. Say you won’t improvise.”
“I won’t improvise,” I repeat.
“I’ll hold you to that, hellcat.”
He shifts, pressing the length of his hard cock into my thigh.
Looks like we’re done talking.
There’s more to the plan, but for now, Koby’s content, almost calm. But I know he’ll start again tomorrow morning, tomorrow afternoon, and twice again in the evening.