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“Give us a moment.”
Beckett’s order is soft given the fact we’re trying to strategize. I’ve sat on the sidelines and let the boys discuss it. I have my own ideas on how to deal with this matter, but all of them end with the very public castration of Alistair Knight.
Not the sort of publicity The Company needs.
But thinking about it, the fear that would engender…
“What’s on that pretty little dangerous mind of yours?”
His body falls onto the sofa opposite me with a heavy slump, and he blocks my eyeline entirely.
In every dark moment since coming back, I thought I took in the sight of this man. I told myself to commit him to memory because I’d need that when he was gone, and while I had snapshots of him, they all paled in the actual presence of him.
Loving him now feels like a carnal need. It was always deep-rooted, living in the very depth of me, but now it feels like something I can’t live without, and yet, it feels like something I should live without.
“Well?”
I have my concerns.
Call it the broken part of my brain or not, but there’s a small voice in my head that worries this is too good to be true. I’m on the comedown from a seven-year-long revenge plan. When everything cracked, the woman who stepped out was stronger and weaker all in one fell swoop. I felt everything and nothing at all. It gave me an edge I never had before, and it forced me to bide my time and make sure when London saw me again, it was on the right foot with the right demeanour.
Now, I’m sitting back in a place all too familiar to me with men actually moving out of my way as if I’m meant to be here, but there’s something that just doesn’t sit right.
Sighing heavily, Beckett taps the back of the sofa with an open palm before he shifts so his whole body faces me.
“Let me hazard a guess here, and feel free to stop me at any point that might be wrong.”
I tilt my head, intrigued, but I don’t utter a word.
“You’re worried that this is all part ofmygame and I’m really using this situation to get you whereIwant to exact my original plan on you.” He stops for a moment, waiting for my objection. “Okay, thought so. You’re also worried that in six months I’ll be done with you and have allowed you the taste of the life you wanted, only to take it all back.”
I raise my eyebrows and nod.
“You also think I’ll forever be on my father’s side.”
“I’ve seen that in action.”
“Fair.” There’s an ebb of something in his tone—sadness, grief. I’m not sure, but it’s there. “I realised a few years back the difference between fatherly love and controlling love. Admittedly, your father took me under his wing. I think it was a mutual need brought on from a mutual longing. He missed having a child, I needed a proper father, and you were the tie that bound us. We got closer and he showed me the ropes.”
“Someone needed to know them, I guess.”
“Yeah, they did. And rather than it go to just anyone, he wanted them in safe hands.” He shifts closer, concentrating on me all the time. “I knew how much he missed you, Natalia. And I know you have so many seeds of doubt, but please know he would have had you back in a heartbeat. And I hate that I now see what my father was doing all along.”
I move to cover his hand with mine. The warmth of his skin ignites something in me, and I look at our connection. As if he sees it too, he shifts his hand, so his fingers intertwine with mine.
“So, regardless of what you think, I’ve needed a reason to pull the cord on my father. He abused his position in more than one way, and the day he put a hand on you is the day he lost any privilege owed to him.” Pushing against our hands, he bends them slightly so he can tighten his grip and lift them into the air a little. Bringing it towards his lips, he twists until he can kiss my knuckles. “You just need to trust me. I’ll trust you if you trust me.”
He makes it seem so easy, and the naivety in me echoes louder because I want the crown. Only now, I want it with Beckett. Back how it always was meant to be.
“I have a reputation, y’know?”
“Oh, I know.” His remark carries on a merry tone, and he sets our hands back down. “Fuck, don’t I know. And do you know what, Talia? I don’t give a fuck.”
“Don’t you think you should?”
“Why?” he asks, perplexed. “Men should fear you. How else do you rule a city?”
I laugh at the idea—that’s been my exact standpoint on the matter. Maybe not before, but what Alistair snatched away from me, I’ll never be able to get back. For that reason, I’ll never take a soft approach to ruling anything.
