Page 23 of Her Mafia King


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“Yes. If he’s going to be your security detail, then he goes where you go. I get it.”

I saw her process the information. “And what do I tell my father about our meeting?” she asked.

“You could send him a message for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Tell him to back off the boutique hotel deal. It’s not going to work.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why would I tell him that? He wants the hotel.”

“But he can’t have it.” I tried to keep my voice clear and firm.

“What makes you think that?” she argued.

“He’s new to New Orleans. I understand he doesn’t know how intricate the hierarchy is. That will come with time. But my father wants that space. Lucien needs to let it go. He should step aside.”

A bubble of determination surfaced on her face. “You’re saying your father wants it, so he gets it.”

I finished off the last sip in my glass. “Yes. That’s usually how it works.” My eyes settled on hers. I could tell she was offended. “Look.” I brushed my thumb over her knuckles before she tried to pull away from me. “Our fathers’ business isn’t us. What they do isn’t you and me. Our meeting is over. I just want to take you to dinner, Kennedy.”

She exhaled. “You don’t care that we’re on opposite sides of this thing?”

“No. I don’t give a shit, honestly. I’d like to take you out. That’s all I care about right now.”

Her bottom lip dragged under her teeth. “Where do you want to go?”

I paid the tab for the drinks. “You’ll see. Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter8

Kennedy

Ihad chosen a red dress for the meeting. One that accentuated my waist and drifted up and down my leg at mid-thigh. I wanted Mr. Corban to know I was a force of nature. He needed to take me seriously. Red was a power statement. I wanted the dress to set a different tone than my gown from Seraphina’s engagement party. I wasn’t a party guest today. I was an extension of my father’s arm. I was a part of the Martin dynasty.

I had to let the weight of that sink in.

I fidgeted in the backseat of the car while Kimble drove to the bar. I had looked in on my father before I left the house. He had already fallen asleep. I gave the house manager instructions to call me if he seemed any worse while I was gone.

Worrying about my father didn’t come naturally. He made it difficult to care, much less show affection or concern about his well-being. It wasn’t easy being his daughter. We didn’t hug. He never tucked me in as a child. There were no sentimental father-daughter moments. But something shifted between us today. His eyes saw something in me they’d never seen before.

It was a lie to try to pretend this meeting didn’t matter to me. I was nervous walking into the bar. Kimble’s strong presence wasn’t enough to calm me. I had to prove myself. I had to represent our family name.

The game changed in a single instant. The rehearsed pleasantries were useless as soon as I spotted Knight Corban. My stomach flipped, and I sighed quietly.

Did Knight have any idea how excited and anxious I was when I saw him sitting at the table instead of his father? I was relieved I didn’t have to match wits with the king of New Orleans, but instead, I was faced with the danger of spending time with Knight. Not only drinks but dinner.

When I told Kimble to follow us in the SUV, I knew he wasn’t happy about the decision. However, we were in town on my father’s orders. I wasn’t about to tell him the dinner had switched to pleasure, not business.

Knight whipped his sports car in and out of tiny side streets and alleys.

“Are you trying to shake my security again?” I asked.

“No.” His eyes darted to the rearview mirror. “Should I?”

I smiled. Sitting next to him again, I remembered the thrill I experienced with him. There was something wild and untamed inside this man.

“I don’t think it would be a smart way to start our business relationship.”

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