Page 53 of Beautiful Scars

“Better the devil you know, sweetheart.”

When she taps the driver on the shoulder and mutters something under her breath, I assume we’re done.

We drive in silence back to the club, and before the driver’s had the chance to put the handbrake on I’m already opening the door.

She shouts across the car to me as I’m getting out, “You come and see me when you’re ready to cut the dead weight.”

I’m about to slam the door in her face. I fucking should. But for whatever reason I don’t. My fingers clench around the metal, nails digging into the glass so hard my knuckles surely turn white.

“Oh… your daughter? Remember her? She’s a fucking mess by the way. I’ll tell her you were asking after her welfare.”

Helen watches me with an imperious stare, but after a second, it slips. “Tell her… Tell her I’m sorry. For everything. She’ll know what I mean by that.”

We stare at each other, her face now mostly hidden in shadow and mine likely spitting venom. “I’d tell her that if I thought for one second it was true.”

Then I do slam the door in her face. That’s fucking plenty from her tonight.

I’m already storming into the club and trying to think of an excuse for where I’ve been. Cole won’t like this, and his plans get even more batshit when he’s riled up. Nope. Better if he thinks I’ve been dealing with a shipment.

He’s still sitting where I left him, the whole VIP area filled with people now, bottles of vodka and champagne being passed around like bongs.

“Office,” I shout to him.

I don’t wait to see if he follows me. He will. He won’t want to think he’s missing out.

I’ve barely made it to the desk in the corner of the room before the door swings open, and he comes in with Sarah trailing along behind him. Fuck’s sake.

“So I’ve been thinking, we need to fuck her up prop—“

“Stop, Cole,” I tell him. “Just fucking stop.”

His eyes widen. Sarah’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of her head.

My thoughts are already spinning out of control. I’m about to tell Sarah to fuck off, but I stop myself. For once in her life Sarah might actually be useful.

“We’re having a wedding,” I tell them. “A massive fucking wedding.”

They both look at each other. Cole’s about to say something, but I stop him.

“We‘ll need to book somewhere. Somewhere big. We’ll have them reshuffle their diary. I want the biggest fucking wedding this country has ever seen.”

I get out from behind the desk and start pacing the same lines Cole’s made in the carpet. “Sarah, invites. Cole will give you a list, but send them to everyone. From the pettiest criminal to the fucking queen of England. Trump as well, see if he’s up north golfing and wants to swing by. The whole fucking European Union. Everyone except Ford, understand?”

She’s looking at me like I’ve just escaped from the mental asylum, but nodding her head anyway.

I turn to my brother. “We need to make sure this is leaked to the papers. Leader’s daughter marries the country’s most violent criminal. She’ll have absolutely no way to cover it up.”

He stares at me for a minute as if trying to find something to argue about. This isn’t what we do. I’m not the one who thinks shit up, I’m the one who does it.

After a long silence, he finally shrugs his shoulders. “Alright.”