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“Fuck the by-laws,” Mr. Danforth says. “That bitch is the reason my sons were taken from me. She tortured and humiliated them. They’re just children. They’ve sat in my wife’s arms sobbing since their return and I will not allow it to happen again. I say we remove Ember Harding and scrub the Harding stain from our great organization, and the second we’re done with that, we go after Paris. Who is with me?”
Carver stands, raising his hand, leading the pack. “I vote to have her removed.”
King follows, standing tall. “I vote to have her removed.”
Harlen Beckett goes next, quickly followed by Matthew Montgomery and soon enough, every man at the table is standing, their eyes locked on mine. “Then it’s sorted. Ember Harding will be removed from Dynasty along with any blood relation. It will be as though the Harding line never existed. However,” I say, my eyes skimming around the room as each of the men start taking their seats. “With Paris still out there, I am not comfortable releasing Ember from our cells. She will remain locked up until Paris Moustaff has been eliminated, only then will she be escorted out of Ravenwood Heights and out of the country.”
Heads nod all around the table, all but the one directly to my right. “The by-laws state that there must be sixteen families represented at all times. We are already down to fifteen with the Scardoni line being wiped out. This puts us at fourteen.”
My gaze narrows into a harsh glare, probably too harsh but my patience is being threatened. “Are there any by-laws in your precious book that tell me how exactly I’m supposed to rectify that?”
“I, umm …” he shakes his head, momentarily stumbling over his words before pulling himself together. “No, Miss Ravenwood, there is not. The by-laws were put together to avoid such certain situations.”
I turn back to the faces that watch me all too closely. “I have a feeling that my own suggestions as to who should replace those family lines would not go down well, so how about this? Each man sitting around this table will be given three days to consider an applicant which will be presented to the table. Each applicant must be willing and able to take over such a role, they must be clean and trustworthy, no bullshit skeletons in their closets. I want background searches, financial checks, family history, and medical searches done. I want every little bit of dirt on these applicants. I want to know about your guy’s first grade teacher who had an affair with the gym instructor. Nothing is off limits. I refuse to have something come and bite us in the ass five years down the track. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” comes from Matthew Montgomery, making my stomach clench with unease, not liking the way he seems to be sucking up to me more than usual.
“Then what?” Harlen Beckett questions.
I shrug my shoulders, not having thought this far through but it couldn’t be too hard. “Then we do what we usually do, we vote. I’ll narrow the list of applicants down to roughly five or six, and from there we will decide as a group, who shall be awarded with the two open seats at our table. Then, I’m sure all the wives would want to throw some elaborate party so we need to be ready for that. I don’t want any surprises. We’ll have to double security, passcodes for entry, RSVPs, that way every single body inside the party is accounted for.”
“Perhaps we shall postpone any celebrations until after Paris has been dealt with,” Mr. Danforth suggests just as his son comes striding back through the door looking incredibly lost as to why we’re talking about celebrations.
Just as I go to agree with him, Carver cuts me off. “Trust me,” he starts. “I’m usually the first to agree with postponing a party, but in this case, it may work against us. The families of Dynasty are already scared. They see us all falling one by one. We need to show them that we’re not backing down, that we’re not going into hiding over this, and that we’re the ones with control.”
“But we’re not in control,” I insist. “Paris has beat us at every turn.”
“But the second we admit that to our people, all hell would break loose. We need to stand as a fucking force now more than ever,” he says, awakening that fighting spirit within me. “Besides, what better opportunity to draw her out? Paris wouldn’t be able to resist a public display at a party.”
Damn it. The boy has a point.
I take a breath and nod. “I’ll think about it.”
Carver nods in return and just as I go to dismiss the meeting, Mr. Danforth clears his throat. “May I have the floor?”
