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“But,” Hale continues, grimacing a little even as he says the word,

“I can see that we don’t have much of a choice. If we refuse her, she’ll only redouble her efforts to tear you away from us, to hurt you or fucking kill you. And you’ll never get the answers you need.”

Gratitude wells up inside me. I know this isn’t fucking easy for him. The thought of any of these men getting hurt or killed because of me makes me want to curl up in agony, and I know they feel the same way about me. But we can’t let our need to protect each other keep us from facing threats head on—not unless we want to spend the rest of our lives running scared.

Hiding.

So I swallow away my fear, because this is what I asked for. And even though I was lying when I said my mother doesn’t scare me, it’s what I need.

“Thank you,” I say quietly. “I wish this hadn’t happened. I wish none of it had happened, that my mother hadn’t targeted you all and me. But I’m glad we’re all together on this. That you’re standing with me.”

Hale steps around the kitchen island, looping one arm around my waist and pulling me against his body. His dark brows draw together a little as he looks down at me. “Always, Grace. That’s not even a question.”

Conviction rings in his voice, and I know he means it. I’m sure there will still be plenty of times where we disagree about how we should stand together, but the question of whether we’re a team, of whether we look out for each other? That question has been answered a thousand-fold over the past few weeks.

“Thank you.”

I repeat the words because all of the other things I want to say feel far too weighty right now. Too big to just blurt them out over breakfast.

Hale holds my gaze for another moment, and my heart does a little flip inside my chest as I wonder if he’s reading the words I didn’t speak in my expression anyway. If he knows exactly what I’m feeling right now.

Whether he knows or not, his kiss is gentle and possessive as he leans down to press his lips to mine. Keeping his arm around me, he glances up at the other men.

“I’ve called in the rest of my father’s captains and a few other people. We’ll meet with them at the club shortly to catch them up on what’s going on. I don’t see any point in keeping everyone in the dark anymore, now that Camilla knows we uncovered Leland’s betrayal. Even if any of my father’s old captains are working for her, she already knows that we know. There’s no point in the subterfuge.”

Everyone agrees, and Hale and I break apart and sit down to finish breakfast. The men talk lightly of other mafia business, but I don’t listen to much of it. My mind is too preoccupied with thoughts of my mother, excitement and dread twisting through me at the idea of speaking to her.

This is what you wanted, I remind myself.

I can tell the men are still concerned, but none of them mention it, not even as we head to Onyx to meet with the higher-ups of the syndicate.

I recognize several of the men who’ve gathered, although there are some faces I’m not as familiar with. I notice the older members shooting me stone-faced looks, and I’m reminded all over again that a lot of these people hate me because of my father. But if any of them are displeased by the fact that I’m being included in this, they’re careful not to show it openly. This is Hale’s ship to run now, and he’s made no secret of the fact that he’s on my side.

Once everyone is assembled in the large meeting room, Hale leans back a little in his chair. That small movement brings the gathered men to silence, and they all watch him expectantly until he begins to speak.

He’s right that there’s little reason to hide the truth now. With Leland dead, it wouldn’t take long for his betrayal to be discovered anyway, so there’s no point in trying to cover it up. It doesn’t appear that any of Damian’s other captains have joined forces with the Rooks, and if they have, they should know what happened to Leland. They should know that one way or another, double-crossing will get them killed.

Shock and anger greet Hale’s pronouncement that Leland was a traitor and that he had a hand in Damian’s death. But when Hale delves into who Leland was working for, naming my mother as the leader of the Rook Syndicate, I can feel the entire atmosphere of the room shift.

Gazes dart in my direction, and I see Frank LeBlanc and Stanley Wheeler murmuring quietly among themselves at the back of the room.

Hale raises a hand, once again making the room fall silent. He glances from face to face, his expression steely.

“Grace is not her mother. The sins of Camilla Weston do not rest on her shoulders. Nor do the sins of Samuel Weston, for that matter.” He gestures to me. “I trust the woman sitting beside me, and I will not have that questioned. Samuel, like my own father, is dead. The only Weston we need to be concerned about now is Camilla. She is the enemy, the one responsible for trying to destroy our family. Do you all understand?”

There are nods and murmurs of assent. Frank and Stanley don’t look happy, but they both nod as well. I take some solace in the fact that their dislike and distrust of me probably means they truly aren’t working with my mother.

“Camilla has requested a meeting with Grace,” Hale continues. “And we’ve decided to agree. I don’t like it, but it will give us a chance to feel her out, to find out what she’s after and how she plans to get it. I’ll want several teams involved in that, and once a location is agreed on, we’ll work out the details. Grace’s safety during the face-to-face is our utmost priority.”

He continues speaking, asking questions of his men and plotting out a course of action. As they offer up their opinions and suggestions, I watch Hale listen intently to each one, weighing it carefully before making a decision.

He’s a good leader, I realize. Better than I think he even knows. I’m certain he wishes it was still his father in that chair, his father whose responsibility it was to bring his organization out of this dark time.

But whether he sees it or not, they’re lucky to have a man like Hale at the helm. His father would be proud of the leader his son has become, even in such a short time.

I just hope it’s enough to get us all out of this mess alive.

11

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