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I pull her onto the couch beneath me. “I’ll take your mind off of tomorrow.”
There’s a knock at the door. “What about the food?”
“Eat first for energy. Then I’ll have you for dessert.”
Wednesday morning doesn’t come soon enough for me. It’s the day Harper and I finally claim our freedom from this damn family and start our life together. She’s prepped. She knows exactly what’s going to happen. We arrive at the Kingston offices early and exit the Jaguar I’ve rented to meet Adam at the door. “Good thing I was still in town,” he says, joining us, no doubt packing a gun or three under the leather jacket he’s wearing.
“Lucky us,” I say dryly.
“Thanks for being here, Adam,” Harper chimes in. “I’m nervous.” Right then, the source of her nerves arrives. A black 911 Porsche pulls up next to my car. “That’s him,” Harper murmurs. “Now I’m really nervous.”
The mob boss himself, Nicholas Marshall, is a valid reason to feel a bit uptight. He comes from a long line of mob bosses and prides himself on his business savvy. He’s Italian, but his grandfather wasn’t, thus the last name. That lack of representation of his heritage often creates a need for him to feel he must overcompensate and prove he’s mob boss worthy. In other words, no one fucks with him and lives.
He exits his vehicle, towering over the roof, and scanning until he eyes my lifted hand. He waves back, his dark hairy curly and his shiny suit, gray but those details don’t matter. What does is the fact that he’s a bastard like me with a complicated back story that I knew would work in my favor, the details of which include: we’re the same age, he inherited because of his mother, and he has a brother he hates.
His bodyguard is now outside of the car, a giant of a man, who wears an equally expensive suit that looks like it was made for his smaller brother. That really cannot be comfortable. They walk our direction, and the bodyguard lingers behind a bit while Nicholas joins us, his eyes falling on Harper, and I know why. Not only does she look stunning in an emerald green dress and boots, she’s my weakness. He wants me to know he knows. He eyes her and then me. “She’s lovely. What now?” He’s not a man of many words. Good. I don’t have any desire to talk to him either nor do I want Harper to know he just threatened her.
“We go inside and wait for Isaac,” I say, opening the door and motioning to Harper to enter first, a part of our plan. This tells Nicholas it’s safe inside and it ensures no one but me is at her back.
With some careful maneuvering, we walk Nicholas, his bodyguard who doesn’t speak, and ourselves to the downstairs conference room. I take the end cap on one side of the table with Harper by my side. Nicholas takes the other with his guard by his side. Adam stays at the front door to escort Isaac to join us. “Contracts?” Nicholas asks.
I shove the folder in front of me across the table lightning quick, and it stops in front of him. He opens it, glances at the documents and then nods. “Acceptable. No turning back now.”
“That’s the point,” I say, aware of Harper’s nervous energy beside me, which is why my hand settles on her knee.
Footsteps sound and Isaac opens the glass doors and enters the room. “What is this?”
“Have a seat,” Nicholas orders.
Isaac looks as if he’s seen the grim reaper.
“Don’t look at him,” Nicholas snaps. “He’s not the one who matters in this room. I am.” He literally points at a chair. “Sit.”
Isaac inhales and tugs at the jacket of his blue suit, a tell-tale sign of nerves I learned about him years ago. He sits down. I speak. “We both know I’m the true heir to the corporation and the inheritance of my father. We all know you killed to keep that secret, but we’ve also agreed that jail is too good for you.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Isaac bites out.
“I took a DNA test and thanks to the right people in the right place, took one from Dad before he was cremated this morning. The results will go to Nicholas. Why? Because I’ve not only signed over my stock to him, should you hurt me, Harper, her mother, or Gigi, I’ve signed over the fortune I’ll inherit from the estate as the trueheir. Harper is keeping her trust. You may inherit under the false pretense of being the eldest son to the Kingston empire, knowing that test will prove you have no rights to any of the fortune.”
“You have to have my DNA to prove I’m not the heir, dipshit,” Isaac snaps, eyeing Harper. “You are nothing but a pain in my ass. You brought all of this on. You should have died in that warehouse back in Denver.”
“You hired the men who attacked her?” I demand.
Isaac fixes me in a hateful look. “Damn straight. You both should have gone down that night. I won’t go down now. I’m not giving up my DNA.”
“I do believe I can find a way to get that DNA from you, Isaac,” Nicholas interjects, speaking to his bodyguard in what I know to be Italian. The bodyguard smiles, giving a nod. Isaac pales.
“And about the rights to the fortune,” Nicholas states. “I own the rights because I own you now, Isaac the fake heir. I will always own you.” His lips quirk evilly. He’s enjoying this. I’m not. This is never where I wanted to land with Isaac. This is not how my mother wanted my story to end with the Kingstons, but it ends as nobly as it can, and in her honor.
Isaac actually looks a bit green now, like he might upchuck. His gaze rockets to mine. “You can’t do this. We need to talk.”
“He already did,” Nicholas says, holding up the envelope and then eyeing me. “Take your pretty lady out of here. Go collect her money and be gone.”
I stand and help Harper to her feet, my gaze landing on Isaac. “He’ll control you, and someone needs to,” I say before I lead Harper to the doors and out of the conference room. We exit the Kingston facility and I speak to Adam. “It’s done.” I shake his hand and then Harper and I start walking, the fingers of one of our hands locked until I open the passenger door of the Jaguar for her.
She rotates to face me. “I almost feel sorry for him.”
“Don’t. He killed people. He would have killed us. It’s done now.”
