Timothy leaned forward slightly.
"You owe me one," West said evenly. "A real one."
Timothy frowned just a little. "As in…?"
"When the time comes," West continued, "no matter what I ask—as long as it's within your capability—you do it."
That made Timothy pause.
He wasn't stupid. A favor from a mafia heir wasn't a small thing.
"And if it's something… risky?" Timothy asked cautiously.
West smiled faintly. "I won't ask for the impossible. Just something within your reach."
Timothy thought for a long moment.
Then he nodded. "Alright. I agree."
They exchanged contact information on the spot.
The moment it was done, Timothy's composure cracked completely.
He stepped forward and wrapped West in a tight hug.
"Thank you," he said hoarsely. "Really. Thank you."
West sighed, patted him on the back awkwardly, and gently pushed him away. "Hey. Get it together. You're supposed to look confident out there."
