For the next fifteen minutes, the only sounds in the apartment were the clatter of forks against chipped plates and the soft, breathless murmurs of two children who had forgotten what it felt like to be entirely, completely full. Leo ate with messy, unbridled joy, gravy smeared across his chin, while Toby ate with a quiet, ravenous focus, looking up every few bites as if to confirm that Zo hadn’t vanished and taken the food with him.
Tessa sat between them, eating small, deliberate bites, her hand resting on the back of Leo’s chair. Her face looked transformed; the crushing weight of exhaustion that had clung to her in the estate foyer seemed, for this brief hour, to have lifted.
“Mr. Zo?” Leo asked suddenly, his mouth half-full of sourdough.
“Leo, chew first,” Tessa corrected gently.
Leo swallowed hard. “Do you have a dinosaur at your house?”
Zo tilted his head, a faint, genuine smile touching his eyes. “Not a real one. But I have two giant stone lions outside the front gates. They guard the house from the cold.”
“Lions are cool,” Leo decided, nodding sagely. “T-Rex could take them, though.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Zo agreed solemnly.
Toby, however, was watching Zo with a maturity that went far beyond his ten years. He set his fork down, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and looked the billionaire dead in the eye.
“Why are you here, mister?” Toby asked bluntly. “People like you don’t come to Pulaski Road just to give away food. What do you want from my sister?”
Tessa’s breath hitched. “Toby! That is disrespectful. Apologize to Mr. Rossi right now.”
“No, let him speak,” Zo said, holding up a hand. He respected the boy’s skepticism. In this neighborhood, when an expensive suit showed up with gifts, it usually meant an eviction, an arrest, or a repossession. “He’s protecting his family. That’s his job.”
Zo took two steps forward, looking down at Toby with total sincerity. “I came because I made a mistake, Toby. I didn’t pay attention to the people who take care of my home. Your sister works harder than anyone I know, and tonight, I realized I owed her more than just a paycheck. I came to make sure you were fed. And I came to make sure that tomorrow morning, nobody takes this family apart.”
Before Toby could process the answer, a violent, deafening bang shook the apartment door.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
The thin wood rattled violently in its frame. Leo dropped his fork, letting out a terrified shriek and pressing himself against Tessa’s side. Tessa went instantly pale, the color draining from her lips as if all the blood in her body had frozen solid.
“Open the damn door, Cole!” a harsh, grating voice bellowed from the hallway. “I know you’re in there! Open up before I have Carl kick it off the hinges!”
Tessa stood up, her entire body shaking violently. “It’s Finch,” she whispered, her voice choking with absolute terror. “He said tomorrow… he wasn’t supposed to come until tomorrow morning!”
Zo didn’t flinch. His eyes, which had softened in the presence of the children, hardened into two chips of black obsidian. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees in a single second.
“Tessa,” Zo said, his voice terrifyingly calm, slicing through the terror like a scalpel. “Take the boys into the bedroom. Close the door.”
“Mr. Rossi, Arthur Finch is dangerous,” she pleaded, grabbing his forearm with both hands. “He brings street enforcers with him. He carries a gun! Please, don’t open that door—”
Zo gently removed her hand from his arm. His face was entirely devoid of fear, replaced by a cold, predatory focus that made even the frantic pounding on the door seem insignificant.
“Take them in the room, Tessa,” Zo repeated, his tone leaving no room for human argument. “Now.”
Tessa grabbed Leo and Toby by the hands and pulled them toward the rear bedroom. Toby looked back over his shoulder, his eyes wide with fear, but Zo met his gaze with a steady, unyielding nod that silently promised safety.
The bedroom door clicked shut.
BAM! BAM! The lock mechanism groaned under another heavy kick from the outside.
“Cole! You’ve got five seconds to hand over the eighteen hundred dollars or I’m throwing your brats’ mattresses into the alley tonight!” Finch snarled through the wood.
Zo Rossi walked slowly toward the door. He adjusted the cuffs of his bespoke navy suit, smoothed the lapels of his charcoal cashmere coat, and reached for the deadbolt.
He didn’t unlock it in panic. He unlocked it with deliberate, chilling precision.
Then, Zo pulled the door wide open.
