Chapter 9 - The First Public Test
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The following morning, the reality of Naya’s new life hit her like a physical blow.
She walked into the mansion’s sprawling dining room for breakfast, only to find it occupied by six of Devan’s top capos. The air was thick with cigar smoke and open hostility. They stopped talking the moment she entered, their eyes dragging over her with blatant disrespect.
Leo stood near the window, arms crossed, doing nothing to stop them.
“Look at this,” muttered a capo named Silas, a brutal man with a scarred jaw. “The boss gets dumped, so he buys a stray off the street to keep his bed warm.”
A few of the men chuckled.
Naya’s heart hammered in her chest, but she remembered Devan’s rule: Do not flinch.
She walked calmly to the coffee urn, poured herself a cup, and turned to face Silas.
“I might be a stray, Silas,” Naya said, taking a slow sip of her coffee, “but I’m the stray sitting at the head of this table. You’re just the dog waiting for scraps.”
The room went dead silent. Silas’s face turned a violent shade of purple. He took a threatening step toward her, slamming his hand on the mahogany table.
“You watch your mouth, little girl. You don’t know who you’re talking to.”
“I’m talking to a man who failed to secure the northern docks last week,” Naya fired back, reciting the intelligence files Devan had made her read late into the night. “A man who lost two shipments to the Rossi family because he was too busy drinking at a club to check the manifests.”
Silas froze, looking around the room in a panic. The other capos exchanged uneasy glances.
“If I were you,” Naya continued, setting her cup down with a sharp clink, “I’d focus less on whose bed I’m warming, and more on keeping your own territory intact before my husband decides you’re no longer useful.”
From the doorway, the quiet hum of an electric motor broke the silence.
Devan rolled into the room, impeccably dressed in a dark suit. A dangerous, incredibly proud smile played on his lips.
“You heard my wife,” Devan said softly. “Sit down, Silas. And apologize to her.”
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Silas swallowed hard, bowing his head. “My apologies, Mrs. Marshall.”
Naya didn't smile. She just nodded. The wolves were learning to heel.
