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Why can’t I catch a break?
Tristan twists in his seat so he’s looking directly at me. “We will get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, we do have that meeting to attend. Unless you want to skip it…”
I lean back against the leather couch and raise an eyebrow. “If you have something to say, fucking say it. Otherwise, don’t waste my time.”
I’m not in the mood for thinly veiled suggestions or insults. Or backhanded insults.
I glance over at the tray boasting several glass decanters with drinks. My throat is suddenly very dry, but I resist the urge to pour myself a drink. Instead, I press my face to the glass and stare at the world as it races past, a blur of shapes and colors. Tristan’s sigh is heavy, but he doesn’t say anything else.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him whisper something to Ernesto.
When I turn to them, they are both looking at the empty road ahead. Streetlamps flicker on either side of us, and Ernesto flicks the turn signal on. He veers onto a narrow cobblestoned street with large buildings on either side of it. Slowing to a crawl, he pulls into the alley beside an old half-finished building with a tarp on the door.
Paul comes out of the building and looks directly at us with a frown. A chill races up my spine.
I get out of the car and shove a hand into my pocket. “You need a different hobby.”
A shadow settles over Paul’s face. “Maybe I’ll find one.”
In silence, the three of them fall behind me, and I push the door open with a creaking sound. Inside, it’s musty, and there’s a low buzz overhead. My footsteps are heavy, the sound echoing back to me as we creep down the hallway. Together, we spill out into a living room, where all the Blackthorne men are waiting in various stages of rest.
As soon as I come in, they all scramble to their feet.
Lorenzo is the first to step forward, hands balled into fists at his side. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we asked for a meeting.”
I drape my jacket over the nearest chair and pause to roll up my sleeves. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Lorenzo glances over his shoulders and then back at me. “We don’t want this to get ugly.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Get to the point then. You know I hate it when people waste my time.”
Lorenzo draws himself up to his full height. “We’ve all been talking, and we want to put it to a vote.”
I walk over to the nearest chair and sit down, regarding everyone with a blank look. “Put what to a vote?”
A part of me already knows what the bastards are hinting at, but I still need them to say it. Because another part of me wants to hear it from their own lips.
“Daniel Blackthorne should be the head of the Blackthorne family,” Lorenzo announces, the words pouring out of him in a rush. “He is a Blackthorne. He is qualified, and he’s spent the past few weeks learning about our operations and how things are done.”
I fold my arms over my chest and level Lorenzo with a look. “And you think that makes him fit? By that logic, every person here has a claim to the throne.”
None of them want to meet my gaze. But I’m not as furious as I thought it would be. Other than the knots in my stomach and the low pounding in the back of my skull, I know this has been a long time coming.
Since sending Isabella to the manor and buckling down for the war, I’ve been glancing over my shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“He is the best choice,” Lorenzo stutters, some of the confidence draining from him. “We want to put it to a vote.”
I let my eyes sweep over the room. “Do you all feel this way?”
Murmurs of agreement rise through the room.
I swing my gaze back to Lorenzo, who loses more of his bravado under my unflinching stare. “And why did you want me to be here?”
Lorenzo opens and closes his mouth.
Slowly, I stand up and cross over to him. “Don’t back down now, Lorenzo. I want to hear why you fucking thought that handing over power while we’re still trying to recover from a war is a good idea.”
Beads of sweat form on Lorenzo’s forehead. “I didn’t mean it would happen right now. Obviously, we need to make sure the truce goes into effect first…”
