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What a fucking joke.
The attempt to make me jealous was so ridiculous, I laughed. “Don’t attempt mind games, Sean. You aren’t good at them. Besides, we both know you don’t give a shit about a love match. Proximity is what matters.”
He didn’t even attempt to disagree, hence why Ash had a handful of failed engagements under her belt. O’Bannon wanted power first and foremost; his daughter was just a vessel to make it happen. And now he’d set his eyes on Greyson. A marriage between our families would give him untold power over the other heads, because a threat or insult to him would be a threat to me.
There was no use discussing alternative terms. He wouldn’t accept them. I was the ultimate prize, and I could see that the depth of his greed wouldn’t allow him to give it up.
“I assume your terms are the same as before.”
“They are,” Sean agreed, and a pit grew in my stomach. “I have something you need almost as much as I want your man. It seems like a simple trade to me.”
That was the fundamental difference between O’Bannon and me. He cared about his family only as long as they got him more power, while I held on to my power to keep my family safe.
So how would I get what I needed without giving up what I wanted?
“Everything okay here?” Grey asked, slipping into the conversation easily. Dominic was still by the elevators with the rest of the Irish.
“Fine, Andrews. Just fine.” Sean stood and clapped him on the shoulder, winking back at me when Grey wasn’t looking. “Don’t forget what we discussed, little queen. The quicker we come to an agreement, the quicker your little problem goes away.”
There it was, the threat I’d been waiting for. I kept my face impassive as I waved him away. “There’s a lot to consider, but I’ll let you know when I’ve come to a decision.”
Sean snorted, shooting me a snarky finger wave as the elevator doors shut on him.
“Are you okay?” Greyson asked as soon as they were gone.
Of course I wasn’t. I had no clue what to do. Instead, with the room completely emptied of everyone but our people, I tucked myself under his arm. The warmth of his body seeped in, while mine was achingly cold all of a sudden.
Dominic shot me a meaningful look, and I shook my head. He gave me a sympathetic smile and nodded toward the elevators. “Let’s get you home, mariposa.”
Grey tightened his arm around me, kissing my hair as he whispered, “It’ll be okay, reina.”
He was wrong, but I decided to let him live in the fantasy for a little longer.
Chapter Eighteen
Mari
I woke that night to the feeling of someone watching me. I slid a hand beneath my head for the gun I kept under the pillow, curling up as if I were still asleep. A voice stopped me just as I wrapped a hand around the hilt.
“It’s me.”
I sagged into the sheets, relief flowing through me when I sat up and pried my gritty eyes open.
Grey was in the armchair near my dresser, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and his shirt partially unbuttoned. He had his hand shoved through his hair, which was already a mess, but the part that stuck with me was that he had no shoes or socks on. Greyson was almost never barefoot.
For whatever reason, it sent a ripple of foreboding down my spine.
“You startled me.” My voice was rough with sleep.
He’d been quiet on the ride home, not that I was much better. He’d stuck close at dinnertime, and when I’d faked a migraine and gone to bed early, I’d expected him to call me on it, but I didn’t think he’d do so in the middle of the night.
He didn’t answer, so I tried again. “What’re you doing in here, Grey?”
“Thinking.”
Dread coiled in my stomach, but I played it off with a raised eyebrow. “In my bedroom in the middle of the night?”
He nodded absently. “After Antoni, I had nightmares. Of him dying. Of you dying. It was impossible to sleep, so I’d sneak in here at night just to watch you.”
