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Mine, not hers.
She isn’t a part of this inner circle.
“Darling, it won’t be so bad. My first marriage was supposed to be arranged.”
Until my father put a bullet in her groom. Anthony shot his own brother without remorse to have Charlotte. He’s never been told no. He wasn’t about to be then either.
“Yes, and then dear old dad caused a war to have you.”
Charlotte’s expression is dreamy. “I know. It’s romantic, isn’t it?”
She and I have different ideas of romance, but I keep my thoughts to myself, already bored of this conversation. “I’ll be there on the day, as promised, but don’t expect me to sit and pick out colour schemes.”
Why Elena’s father wants this big, elaborate affair, I don’t know. We could have had a quick ceremony with a few guests. A grand wedding feels like putting targets on our backs for our enemies, who may wish to stop the proceedings. Easton’s syndicate is under our thumb now, but given the chance, that cunt would put a bullet in me or my new wife-to-be. So would the Woods syndicate, a crime family based out of Manchester. They had tried to solidify a base in London by marrying my now sister-in-law, Sariah, to their boss, Jeremiah Wood, but we had stopped that with hers and Luke’s marriage. The syndicate is in the middle of a messy as fuck civil war, which started after the death of Jeremiah. The bastard kidnapped my sister and sister-in-law, who was set to marry him before we snatched her and wed her to my brother, Luke.
Fraser affairs are always messy. Particularly marriages. Our parents started the precedent on that one. I wasn't exaggerating when I said my father started a war to have my mother. He did that and more, leaving Gemma, our cousin, without a father. She was barely a baby, but she still harbours deep resentment.
“I'll do what you ask, but don't expect me to care about the details. I thought it was customary for the bride's family to arrange the wedding anyway. How come we got saddled with the bill?” My family can afford it. So too can the Adams's, but I do find myself wondering how we got the shit end of this bargain. Especially since my mother is driving me crazy with the details.
“It was part of the deal we made with Hamish.” Charlotte waves a negligible hand. “I prefer to have control anyway. Knowing Hamish, he'd get all the colours wrong, the wine would be a disaster, and the food will be tasteless.”
Of course my mother would give shit about how we are perceived by outside influences. As if it matters what other crime families think about us. I couldn't give a fuck. The only thing that matters is keeping our power in the city. If marrying Elena Adams does that, then I will take this step.
“Anyway, you can see what she’s like yourself tomorrow at the engagement ceremony.”
“I can hardly wait,” I drawl. I should thank my fucking lucky stars I will at least meet Elena before we say our vows. Lucas was not as fortunate. His bride was presented to him moments before his ceremony took place. That’s not generally how things are done in our world, but we were on a time schedule. Luke and Sariah had to say their vows before Jeremiah Wood got wind of our duplicity.
“I'm assuming you will have security for the wedding day. I don't want a repeat of what happened to Zeke.”
My mother clucks her tongue, irritation clear on her face. “What happened to your brother was his own careless fault.”
I move before I think about my actions. I wrap my fingers around her neck and push her against the desk so her back is bowed against the glass. She cries out a little, mostly from surprise, though I have no doubt I'm hurting her. My grip is like a steel band clamped around her neck. My eyes are heated as I glare down at her, wanting so much to end her life. She is the cause of every evil that has been visited on my family. I hate her. I despise who she is and what she stands for. It would be so easy to end her life.
“What happened to Zeke wasn't his fault. He was fucking ambushed. It could have been any one of us lying on the tarmac, bleeding out.” My words are harsh, rasping out like bullets, each one hitting their mark.
As I choke her, she peers up at me, her eyes calm as if she doesn't really believe I will kill her. She puts a lot of faith in the bonds of family. Too much. I squeeze harder, feeling the delicate structures in her neck shift beneath my touch. For the first time I see a hint of panic in her eyes as she realises I'm quite serious.
She tries to gasp out my name, but my hold on her neck is absolute. All I have to do is squeeze a little harder and the light in her eyes would wink out. It would be so easy to do...
“As much as I wouldn't mourn her loss, you might want to think twice about committing matricide.” I stop squeezing and glance over my shoulder at Luke, who is standing in the doorway. My younger brother doesn't seem surprised or fazed by the fact I'm strangling our mother. Why would he? I'm sure he's fantasised about this himself a million times.
For a brief moment I consider taking that final step and ending her life, but I can feel the weight of Lucas's stare behind me, and the moment is lost, along with my rage. I feel it seeping from my pores, a poison leaving my body.
I let go of her and step back. She coughs, rubbing at her throat, which has to be hurting after what I've done. “One day, Kane, that temper of yours will get you into trouble.” She straightens and smooths down her clothes, as if I didn’t just have my hand wrapped around her neck. Then she leaves the room. She kisses Lucas's cheek as she goes, the ever-dutiful mother. What a joke. The only thing Charlotte cares about is power and having more of it.
Luke moves deeper into the room, but I notice he keeps some distance from me. He must know I wouldn't hurt him, but he's wise to create this chasm between us. I might not have returned to my right mind. My brother knows exactly what kind of beast I am, because I've never pretended to be anything but that.
“Not that I care about her safety, but why, exactly, were you strangling our mother?”
“She blamed Zeke for getting shot.” I shift my shoulders. “I lost my temper.”
Lucas's face morphs into one of pure rage. “You should have ended her miserable life. Zeke did nothing wrong.”
He didn't, and he paid dearly for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It had been touch and go for a while, no one sure whether he was going to make it or not after he was shot. Up until a few days ago he was still in the hospital recovering. The doctors finally let him home, but our brother still has a long road ahead of him.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“Anthony wanted me for something. Probably something that’s going to make my blood boil.” My brother studies me, as if trying to pull the thoughts from my head. “How are you feeling about the wedding?”
