She Was Only a Dog Trainer Trying to Heal a Traumatized Shepherd — Then the Mafia Boss Who Owned Him Made Her the Key to Surviving a Deadly Betrayal

Chapter 10

I woke up in Roman Kyodori’s bed with a seventy-pound German Shepherd draped across my legs and three missed calls from my mother on the secure phone.

The morning light filtered through the blackout shades, painting the room in shades of gray. Luna was still asleep, her breathing deep and even, completely calm — like the crisis from last night had never happened. I carefully extracted myself from under her weight and checked the phone. Three voicemails, all increasingly worried.

I stepped into the hallway and called her back.

“Odessa Marie Kleinhart.” She answered on the first ring. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling for two days.”

“I told you, I’m staying with a friend.”

“A friend who doesn’t let you answer your phone. A friend you’ve never mentioned before.” Her voice had that edge it got when she was scared and trying to cover it with anger. “Your brother drove by your apartment yesterday. Your landlord said you haven’t been home in three days. What’s going on?”

My stomach dropped. David had gone to my apartment, which meant he’d seen the eviction notice I’d been ignoring — the one threatening final action if I didn’t pay the back rent by Friday.

“Mom, I’m fine.”

“Are you in trouble? Is it money? Because I told you, I can talk to the hospital about a payment plan —”

“It’s not the bills.” I closed my eyes, hating the lie, hating that I couldn’t tell her the truth. “I picked up a new client. High-paying. But it requires me to be available twenty-four-seven for a few weeks. I’m staying close to make it easier.”

The silence on the other end lasted too long.

“You’re lying to me,” she said quietly. “I raised you, Odessa. I know when you’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Just tell me you’re safe. That’s all I need to know.” A pause. “Are you safe?”

I thought about the surveillance team watching the building. About Klov’s man with the cracked Rolex and the casual threats. About Roman’s penthouse, with its floor-to-ceiling windows and the kind of security that made Fort Knox look accessible.

“I’m safe,” I said. And that, at least, was true.

“Okay.” She didn’t sound convinced. “But Odessa — whatever you’re doing, whatever you’re mixed up in, you can always come home. You know that, right?”

“I know, Mom.”

After I hung up, I stood in the hallway for a long time, trying to calculate how much my choices were going to cost me. Three days away from my other gigs meant three days of lost income. The grooming salon had probably already replaced me. The eviction notice was real, and Friday was in two days.

The secure phone buzzed. *Walk in 30. Different route. Sophie has it. R.*

The new route looped through the park — more open, fewer buildings, harder for tails to blend in. Sophie shadowed me at a distance, and Luna walked close at my heel, her ears swiveling at every rustle.

We were twenty minutes in when I felt it. Not saw it — felt it. The same shift in air pressure I’d felt in the exam room, the same animal awareness that made the hair on my arms stand up.

Luna went rigid.

Then the man in the charcoal suit stepped out from behind a stand of trees, and my heart stopped.

“Miss Kleinhart.” He smiled, the same pleasant smile he’d worn in the exam room, the one that had made my blood run cold. “Walking the dog early today. Good habit. Keeps people guessing.”

I kept my hands steady on Luna’s lead. She was vibrating with the same focused tension she’d shown the day we met — not lunging, not growling, just locked on him, like she was waiting for something.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.” He glanced at Luna, and something flickered in his eyes — something almost like recognition, but softer. “She’s doing better than I thought she would. The vet said she’d never trust anyone again after what happened.”

“What happened?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his jacket, and I braced myself. But he only pulled out a photograph, worn at the edges, and held it up so I could see it.

It was the same photo as the one on Roman’s side table. A younger Roman, standing next to his father. But in this one, there was a third person — a young man with the same dark eyes as the old Kyodori, standing a little apart, holding the leash of a black German Shepherd puppy.

“This is Konstantin Kyodori,” the collector said, tapping the older man. “And this is his son, Alexander.” He tapped the third man. “And this —” he tapped the puppy “— is Luna. She was Konstantin’s dog. She was there the night of Pier 9. She watched him die.”

The world tilted under me.

“I’m telling you this because Klov’s patience is running out.” His voice dropped. “And because you’re the only person who can get close enough to Roman to tell him the truth.”

“What truth?”

“That Pier 9 wasn’t what it looked like. The betrayal came from inside. And whoever opened the back door that night is still standing in it.” He pressed the photograph into my hand. “Ask Roman about the clinic coordinator. Ask him who gave her the keys to the back entrance.”

Then he was gone, melting back into the trees, and I was standing alone with a traumatized dog and a photograph that made the whole world spin.

Luna had been still the entire time. Not aggressive. Not afraid.

Waiting. Like she knew the man. Like she’d been waiting for him to come back.

I looked down at the photograph. At the puppy in the third man’s hands. At the scar through his left eyebrow — the same scar I’d seen in the exam room, on the man in the charcoal suit.

Alexander Kyodori. Roman’s brother.