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“Do you have anything useful to add?”

“Yeah. It’s time to make better use of Calvin and his work on those damn gadgets and electronics.”

Ma was so damn stubborn, unable to see how useful his skills could be beyond her own disdain.

She laughed. “He’s not cut out for the streets. I let him to go out once in a while to toughen him up. This isn’t sibling rivalry, is it?”

The way she looked as though that was the funniest fucking thing in the world got under my skin and she knew it.

“No, it’s not. I’m just thinking that Cal and one of his gadgets could hack her phone or her house or whatever and get all the information we need to fuck them for good.”

A brow arched perfectly and she put her hands together, fingertip to fingertip, in that deliberate way she did that was meant to intimidate. It worked on other people but it was hard to take it seriously when I’d been watching it for thirty years.

“I’ve never known you to shy away from a fight Virgil. What’s going on?”

I frowned, insulted at the implication. “I’ll never run from a fight and you know that, Ma. What I’m saying is, we already know when it inevitably comes to war, we will prevail. Why not have a little fun by ruining them brick by brick first?”

“Finally, something Virgil and I agree on.”

The loud obnoxious voice belonged to my older brother and unofficial head of the Ashby family, Jasper. Sadie was the decision-maker, but Jasper was her closest advisor, and she usually did what he advised. Though, when it came to the Emerald Isle Hotel & Casino, Kat was the woman in charge.

“Think about it, Ma, we take their money and ruin their businesses. Leave them with just enough to make ’em think they might win. Then we do something that forces war.”

“Like kidnap the Rhymer Princess?” Even thinking about it now, made me cringe at my stupid fucking mistake.

“Exactly,” Jasper said with a proud smile. “Exactly. It’s the smarter play, Sadie. And it’s a chance for you to see what Calvin can actually do.” Jasper and Ma stared at each other for a long time, both of them so damn similar and unable to back down from any challenge. Any fight.

Stormy eyes met stormy eyes, so much energy swirling between them until finally, Ma relented. “I’ll think about it.”

Jasper smiled and rounded the desk to wrap his big arms around Ma’s petite frame. “Was that so hard?”

“Harder than you know, son.” She patted his face affectionately once and then once more a little harder.

“Get gone, both of you. You have your orders.” She stood and waved her arms in a shooing motion that didn’t stop until Jasper and I were both on the other side of her salon doors. “And I expect to see you both for Sunday dinner.” Sadie’s trusted assistant, and right hand man, Thomas appeared out of nowhere to shut the door firmly in our faces.

“Thanks for having my back in there,” I told my brother honestly. I didn’t always agree with Jasper, and sometimes I resented his role as head of the family, but he was smart as fuck and it was good to know even a broken clock could be right once in a while.

Jasper flashed his pretty boy smile and clapped me on the back. “Don’t even think about it. I’ve been telling Sadie for a while now that we should kneecap The Crusaders before we put a bullet between their eyes. Maybe now that I’ve got backup, she’ll listen.”

I barked out a bitter laugh as we made our way down the long hall, bypassing the elevator in favor of the wide marble staircase. “You might not want me to be your backup,” I told him.

“Because you got the wrong chick? Don’t worry about it, little bro, Savannah was gone by the time Terry and I got there. Looks like we’re all in the shit house with Sadie right now. But we’ll take care of it. Like we always do.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Maisie

Damn. How much did I drink last night? I don’t even remember whipping out the credit card that was shoved in my left cowgirl boot, which means I either got wasted off eighty bucks’ worth of rooftop bar, or I looked so smoking hot that some guy—or guys—bought me a shit ton of booze last night.

Fuck. What happened to Bonnie?

My head pounded like a six-inch drummer was sitting right on top of it with two oak sticks and two more using cymbals right behind my eyes. And I didn’t even want to think about what those freaky little drummers had done to make my mouth feel like a used cat box.

Mostly, my head just fucking hurt like hell. I popped one eye open and looked up at the ceiling. A really white ceiling with weird golden style paint. The bed under me was a different deal altogether, firm but very plush. I was sure it had molded to my body. Someone had even tossed a soft cashmere blanket on top of me, which I appreciated.

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