Emilio stood slowly, and instantly there was silence. “I apologize for the behavior of my friends, Evangeline. Please accept the protection we’re offering you. Martino will also accompany you.” He looked around the table and shook his head. “I apologize to you, Elijah and Alonzo and Joshua as well. Patrizio, sit down and think with your head, not your dick for a change. What we do here is important.”

Alonzo kept his gaze fixed on Patrizio even as his hand continued to urge Evangeline toward safety. Timur took her wrist and pulled gently. To Alonzo’s relief, she went with his brother and the other bodyguards. He didn’t look away from Patrizio, but he saw everything as a man rather than a leopard. Mostly he saw Evangeline’s body, the way her shoulders were slumped as if in defeat. He hated that. And he knew she was going to send him away from her. That gutted him. He deserved it, but it gutted him all the same because in the end, he was already lost. His leopard would grow in power and cruelty until Alonzo wouldn’t be able to control him and they’d both go the way of his family unless he killed himself or made someone else do it.

Patrizio sank into his chair, shaking his head. “There is no excuse so I make none, only offer my apologies.”

He looked around the table with his lying smile and his hate-filled eyes—eyes that settled on Evangeline with a dark, ugly promise. He must have felt Alonzo’s steady stare, the focused stare of the leopard that was unsettling and terrifying. Alonzo didn’t take his gaze from the man, not once during all the negotiations. Not when he smiled or tried to fawn, not when he practically gave up everything to be a part of the alliance they were forming. Especially not when Elijah pushed back his chair and stood, silently declaring the meeting over.

“We’ll get back to you soon,” he promised both Emilio and Patrizio.

Alonzo stood as well, hating to let the man go. His leopard was watchful, angry that the enemy was walking out unscathed, raking and clawing with the need to end the man. He felt as his leopard did, a terrible need consuming every part of him to feel Patrizio Amodeo’s life fade in his hands.

We’ll get him, he promised. Think of him as a walking dead man. We’ll get him.