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Was he right?
Was being open with her the key to earning her forgiveness?
I knew she craved information, understood why too, but…
It seemed so clinical.
Savannah was, though, wasn’t she? Not with me, but in her working life, she was hard as nails. Arrogant. Severe.
Through my stupidity, she’d proven that if I told her she couldn’t use the information I gave her, she wouldn't. So she could be trusted to obey me…
Unless she wanted her own back.
I knew, more than most, that she was capable of long-term, thoroughly detailed revenge…
Thoughts whirring, I followed the GPS link that Lucas had sent me earlier to the fancy neighborhood where Lily Lancaster lived with the MC brother who’d claimed her as his own.
We were tied more intrinsically to the Satan’s Sinners’ MC than the Five Points would ever know.
It went deeper than Mary Catherine and Digger’s marriage and their son.
Brennan’s Camille had found a dubious sort of sanctuary here, my father had concocted some fucked-up plan to eradicate the earth of pedophiles with the club’s VP, their Reaper had cleared away dead bodies for us, and together, we’d brought down theFamiglia.
Then there was the old Prez: dead for close to a year now, yet somehow still the Gordian knot that tangled so many loose filaments together.
Every day, more information came to light.
Every day, more conspiracy theories became truth.
Savannah said that my reign would be different than my da’s. That there wouldn’t be the wars like he’d led the Points through, but I was waging a different kind of battle.
This one threatened us all.
Not just those living in the underworld, but those in regular society too.
No one was safe.
Not from the ECD or the Sparrows.
Ifweweren’t untouchable, then they could get to everyone and anyone.
Like poisoned blood that necrotized the tissue it touched, we were all slowly dying.
And it had nothing to do with global warming.
I made it to the Lancaster mansion with few issues aside from a call from Finn, undoubtedly wanting to know where the fuck I was.
I ignored it and hit the intercom on the gates, fully expecting not to be allowed inside.
The second I mentioned my name, however, the gates immediately opened.
I drove in and, at the end of the driveway, saw Savannah’s sporty little coupe.
Thinking strategically, I blocked her in by parking beside her guards’ SUV, feeling more comfortable now that I knew she couldn’t run away.
At least, not by car.
Hoping she was wearing heels so I didn’t have to run her down on foot—I put nothing past my wife—I headed for the door.
