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She tries—and fails—to force her wild ginger hair into submission. “Besides, you know that Nate would go straight back to work as soon as we returned.”
“Which he should’ve done three days ago instead of having me carry all the weight. And stop smiling, motherfucker. It’s disgusting.”
“Dad!” Gwen gasps, then flops beside her husband. “Don’t listen to him, Nate. I like it when you smile.”
I take my own seat, narrowing my eyes. “Already taking sides, Gwen?”
“You’re unreasonable, Dad.”
“Not to mention a jerk,” Nate says with his usual blank expression. At least the creepiness is gone.
“Nate,” she whisper-yells. “Don’t call Dad a jerk.”
At least the little shit still has some loyalty toward me.
“Unfortunately, your denial won’t negate the fact that he is one.” He raises his brows at me in pure challenge. “The worst kind. If only you knew what type of things he does behind your back.”
“I’ll kill you,” I mouth so Gwen doesn’t hear and he just smiles again, summoning the version from creepy hell.
My daughter frowns at him. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing you should worry about…yet.” He kisses the top of her head and she just lets it go.
Gwen talks about all the fun she had and tells me about the gifts she bought for me, all seven of them, because wherever she went, she thought of me and wanted to get me something.
Then she says she misses Martha and goes to catch up with her.
As soon as Nate and I are alone, I contemplate whether or not he’ll die from a single shot from my grandfather’s shotgun that’s displayed right behind his head.
He flings a hand on the back of the sofa. “You do realize that you’re fully transparent when that head of yours is bubbling with violence, don’t you?”
“Better run then, motherfucker.”
“That word and I are not friends. Speaking of friends, I heard unsettling rumors about you rekindling your withering relationship with Nicolo Luciano.”
“Not rumors. News.”
He stands up, all nonchalance gone as he reaches me in a few strides and speaks in a low tone. “Did you lose your fucking mind in that damn coma? Why the hell would you willingly go back to the mafia’s dirty circle after putting so much effort into cutting ties with them?”
“Nothing personal. Just business.”
“Fuck that. You loathed your father’s involvement with them and made sure to end it as soon as he was six feet under. So either spill the actual reason or Gwyneth will have to be the one to get the answers out of you.”
I jerk up and grab him by the collar of his shirt in one swift movement. “Don’t bring her into this.”
He clutches me by my jacket. “You’rethe one who did that. She’s your daughter, King. If anything goes sideways, which, spoiler alert, always does with the mob, she’ll have a target on her fucking back.”
She’ll have a target on her back either way because of her damn mother. But I don’t say that, because it will show that I care, and that’s blasphemy in my dictionary.
“She won’t.” I push him away. “And tell your bird who dares to fucking spy on me that I’ll blacklist them from this planet the moment I find them.”
He scratches his chin. “Huh.”
“What?”
“You said ‘your bird.’”
“So fucking what?” I might have the patience of a toddler lately.
