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“She and the baby are going to be fine,” Anita adds in a softer voice. “Now, why don’t you go upstairs and get some sleep? There’s going to be a lot to do tomorrow.”
I press my lips together and give her a curt nod.
Anita squeezes my shoulders on the way past.
I wheel around to watch her leave and wait until I hear the soft click of her door. Then I pour myself another drink and glare at Anita’s empty lawn, with its trimmed grass and bushy trees. With a frown, I turn away from the window and head for the stairs. I take them two at a time, and by the time I reach the top, Anita’s words have completely sunk in.
In the bedroom, Isabella is still fast asleep on the other side of the bed.
I let the door click shut and kick off my slippers. Before I climb into bed, I step out of my shorts. Keeping my hands at my sides and resisting the urge to reach for Isabella is hard. I curl my hands into fists, and I’m counting backward when she sighs and flips onto her other side so she’s facing me. A furrow appears between her brows as Isabella closes the distance between us and curls up against me.
My chest grows and swells with emotion.
Carefully, I drape an arm over her shoulders and swallow. “I’m not going anywhere, dove. We’re going to get through this.”
Chapter Eight
Carter
“Both sides need to honor the agreement,” I snap, with a quick look around the room. I push my chair back with a screech, and a few people flinch when it falls to the floor with a thud. “If you’re not going to honor the agreement, then why are you wasting my time?”
Floyd Philips drums his fingers against the desk and gives a slight shake of his head. “You’re the one who is wasting time here, Blackthorne. We are being generous.”
I place my hands on either side of the table and level the head of the Philips family with a withering look. A few of his men shift from one foot to the other, but none of them want to meet my gaze. Combined, all of them have a lot more common sense than their boss.
But they’re also a lot more cowardly.
And I know the key isn’t to alienate or threaten Floyd, especially not when we’re evenly matched in war. Still, I can’t help but slip back into old habits.
Since walking into an empty conference room in the middle of the city two hours ago, all I’ve been able to think about is putting Floyd’s face through a wall.
Repeatedly.
I’ve come a little too close for anyone’s comfort. And I am hanging onto my patience by the skin of my teeth.
“Asking for half of our properties isn’t being generous,” I say through gritted teeth. “You’re overreaching, and you and I both know what happens if you cross a Blackthorne.”
Floyd stands up and fastens a button on his suit jacket. “You and I both know that you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need the treaty. Face it, Blackthorne. We’re in the same boat whether you like it or not.”
I push myself off the table and fold my arms over my chest. “I don’t give a shit if you and I are humanity’s last chance at survival. If you cross me, I will not hesitate to make sure the entire boat sinks.”
Floyd shoves one hand into his pocket. “I’ve seen what you’re capable of.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of movement, and Mathew Natori rises to his feet. He slicks back his dark hair, and his eyes dart between the two of us. “We’re here to discuss the terms of the treaty. Mr. Natori doesn’t like it when people waste his time. He had his doubts about you, Blackthorne, but it’s clear that you’re too pussy whipped and weak to see this through.”
With that, the Natori representative spins on his heels and pushes his chair back. His men fall into step beside him and form a half-circle around the door. Mathew’s hand is inches away from the knob when I take my gun out of the waistband of my pants and point it at his back.
No one flinches or breathes when I fire a warning shot, and the bullet lodges itself into the wall, inches away from Natori’s hand. He whips around to face me, his eyes blazing with fury. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? We’re here under peaceful terms.”
I lower the gun and give him a pointed look. “And this meeting isn’t over until I say it is. So, unless you want to go back to your boss and tell him that you started another war, I’d suggest you sit back down.”
Natori and his men exchange a few uneasy looks.
“I’m only going to warn you one more time.” I lift the gun back up and point it directly at him. “I will shoot you where you fucking stand. Do not test me.”
Mathew stiffens, and a long moment passes.
His men take their own guns out, but they don’t know where to point them. I have more men in this room than anyone else, and all of them are poised and ready to fight our way out if needed. Turning this conference room into a bloodbath isn’t my intention.
