“I want to believe you,” she finally says, her voice deflated and beaten down. “But I don't know if I can trust my own judgment right now. Everything feels like it's spinning out of control.”
“Trust me to help you get back that control.” I take a chance and close the distance between us, then take her hands. “I'm on your side. I've been on your side since the beginning. My father is a manipulative bastard who will say and do anything to get what he wants, and right now what he wants is to make you doubt yourself. Don't let him win.”
She looks down at our hands, her hair falling around her face. I know exactly how she feels in this moment and how much she despises being in this position. But I can’t force her to trust me. She has to want to, to believe that I only want the best for her.
“I need some time to think,” she whispers.
The words hit like a slap. But pushing her right now would only make things worse.
“Okay.” I drop her hands and step back. “I get it. Take whatever time you need. I've got something I need to take care of anyway.”
Her head snaps up. “Like what?”
“A security job I need to check on.” The lie tastes like shit on my tongue, but I can't tell her the truth. If she knew I was about to go after my father, she'd either try to stop me or want to come with me. And I have to handle this alone. “I won't be long.”
She nods slowly, but she’s hesitant, like she doesn’t know if she should believe me. Great. Now she's got even more reason not to trust me.
“We'll talk when I get back,” I say. “Really talk. About all of it.”
I grab my keys and head for the door. Reaper whines from his bed but I don't stop.
I've got a snake to deal with.
I drive to my father's house, a fortress in Beacon Hill. The place itself screams old money elegance, but there’s a hell of a lot of rot underneath the surface. Perfect for the man who lives there.
I don't bother knocking. I use my key and shove through the front door hard enough to rattle the brass hinges. The security guy rounds a corner with his gun out. He backs off when he sees it's me.
“Where is he?” I growl.
“Office.” He jerks his thumb toward the back of the house. “But he's got?—”
“Don’t fucking care.” I move down the hallway before the guard can finish his sentence, my shoes pounding against the hardwood, fury fueling every step.
I slam open the office door. My father stands behind his massive oak desk with a highball glass of whiskey in hand, not at all shocked that I’m standing in his domain.
And sitting across from him is Ronan.
My oldest brother looks up when I storm inside, his eyes narrowing. There’s a glass of whiskey on the desk in front of him along with a stack of papers, clearly in the middle of some kind of meeting. I wonder whose lives they’re planning to incinerate next.
“Lochlan.” My father's voice is smooth, like he’s not the least bit shocked to see me. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Cut the shit.” I stride toward his desk. “You went to Adriana's office today. You told her she wasn't capable of doing her job. You implied that I should step in and take over.”
Eamon takes a sip of whiskey like this is a casual chat. “I expressed some concerns about her ability to juggle multiple responsibilities. Given the circumstances, I thought it was warranted. The Russians have attacked twice since she’s taken over, so they obviously feel that she’s vulnerable. Maybe this isall too much for her.” He stares at me. “You can’t blame me for being concerned.”
“Give me a fucking break. You’re not concerned about her or her family,” I bite out. “You showed up in her office to deliberately undermine her. You used information you kept from me to manipulate her. You're trying to destroy her confidence so she'll hand over control to you.”
“I'm only trying to protect our interests, which you’d understand if you hadn’t cut ties with our family organization. His eyes ice over, the mask slipping just enough to show what's underneath. “The DiMicheli organization is in chaos. The Russians are circling. And the woman running things is more concerned with her consulting firm than with the people depending on her leadership.”
“That's bullshit and you know it.” I slam my palm on his desk hard enough to make the ice in the glasses jump. “Adriana has done everything right. She shut down Riccardo. She handled the situation at Moretti's. She's earned the respect of the capos. The only person undermining her is you.”
“She's a liability.” Ronan's voice cuts in, cold and flat. “She doesn't belong in this world—hell, even by her own admission she never wanted to be in this world—and everyone can see it except you.”
I turn to face my brother. “Who the fuck are you to make judgments about her?”
“Give me a fucking break, Lochlan.” Ronan shoots up from his chair and walks toward me so we’re toe to toe, close enough for me to grab his arm and snap it in two. “She's playing mafia boss while her actual business falls apart. Dad's right to be concerned. Someone needs to step up and take control before the whole thing collapses. And in case you forgot, we’re locked into their organization through this sham marriage of yours. So if you don’t step aside to protect our organization, then maybe someone takes you out…” He pauses, a nasty smirk lifting his lips. “Of the way.”
“Oh, yeah? Someone like you?” I let out a harsh laugh. “Is that what this is about? You're still pissed that Dad chose me for this marriage instead of you, so now you're helping him sabotage my wife?”
