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CHAPTERTHIRTY
ETHAN
It had been three days since Fred Westbrook's mysterious death in my basement. I had barely gotten any sleep.
Because of Vanessa, Fred's lifeless eyes haunted me. She was the reason I couldn't sleep and why I spent the majority of my days scouring the city, afraid to return home.
I had Tristan hang out with me at a bar the night before. We hadn't done anything like that since we were both without titles. I wished I could go back in time and fight battles I didn't have to lead. But those dayslacked Vanessa.
"The Robinsons aren't moving, boss, and neither is the Mullen family," Tristan said the night before at the club. "You should be at home rather than here."
Whether by chance or design, there had been no attack from the two families following the shootout at the cemetery. Have I truly won? I was perplexed.
The streets were quiet that afternoon as I gazed out the window at the city. People went about their work, unconcerned about malice or the next person. I hadn't wanted that kind of life in a long time.
Those were idle thoughts, according to my uncle. But it was the kind of life Vanessa would have had if she hadn't met me. She'd still be in business school, and we might have run into each other at a gas station, a movie theater, or a shopping mall one day.
"Any news on Fred?" I asked, breaking the silence in the car.
"I haven't found anything yet, but I'm still looking. I'll track down the person who killed him. It's either one of the men who were at the house that day or…" Though he didn't say it, I knew he was referring to Luke and Dylan "Or Fred did it to himself in some way," Tristan responded.
There hadn't been much conversation between me and my uncle. Even before Fred died, Fred Westbrook was a source of contention between us.
There had to be more to the story.
"Where to, boss?" Ryan asked.
I should return home. I knew it. It was a nagging thought.
Vanessa's tears over the bodyof her uncle were still fresh in my mind. I couldn't help but blame myself. I felt like I had let her down and couldn't face her.
The maid frequently updated me on her condition.Vanessa's eyes were swollen from crying, and she barely touched her meals.It filled me with dread, seeing her as she was and knowing I couldn't change it.
How do I cheer her up? I wondered, too embarrassed to ask Tristan or Ryan for assistance.
But I needed help.
"I feel bad about the whole Fred situation," I said, casually opening the conversation. "Do you think I shouldtake her somewhere? Do something?"
Tristan and Ryan exchanged glances as they debated who would speak first.
Ryan took the floor first. "I believe flowers would suffice, boss. Flowers are popular among women. They're romantic," he said.
"I believe the boss is looking for something more, not just someromantic gesture," Tristan explained before returning his attention to me. “Or am I mistaken, boss?"
"Do you have a better idea, Ryan?" I ignored Tristan, taking away his delight at seeing me upset.
"I'm sorry, boss," Ryan shrugged, "but I've always gotten flowers in similar situations."
I sighed and sank further into my chair. Flowers would notbe enough for all the pain she was in.
"Alternatively, boss, you could give her something she's always wanted dearly, something meaningful to her," Ryan added after a few seconds.
What does Vanessa really want?
I had several ideas, the first of which was to bring her uncle back to life, which seemed impossible. I wondered if she would have wanted her friend by her side. That was also impossible because it meant I'd have to ask the Robinsons for Anna's help.
Though the attacks had ceased, I knew a request for Anna was straining the fragile peace fences between us. It was not a situation I could afford or create without abducting her.
