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“Jesus. If we can confirm that Calvin killed the Fancotts, then his punishment will be death,” Stone adds.
Walton nods. “It is. We just need to prove it.”
“I’m with you, Dad. It is too much of a coincidence. We need to look more into the dealings between Hastings and Parkes and this marriage arrangement. There is a reason why Calvin is pushing so hard for the marriage, and I don’t believe it’s just to bring Parkes into the brotherhood,” Ryker muses
Clearing my throat, I stand. “Can everyone investigate this? I will do some digging at home. Walton, can you send over everything you have so far?” He nods. “I want this over with as quickly as possible. I want my father gone.” The determination in my voice is strong as my princess and son flash in my mind.
A hand clamps down on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. Whatever your father is involved in, we will find out. He won’t get away with it.”
“I hope so. I need this done before my fake wedding. I will not marry that woman.”
“Don’t worry, man. We’ve got you,” Zane adds.
I glance around at them all, at the determination on their faces.
For the first time since this shit started, I feel confident that we can do this.
There is no other way.
One way or another, my father will pay for his sins.
* * *
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Baron. Happy birthday to you.” We all sing around the counter at the Maxwell’s penthouse. It’s my son’s birthday, and I arrived in the city late last night and have to fly back to Vegas first thing tomorrow. I woke around seven and made my way straight over to Aria’s so I could be there when Baron woke up.
My boy was spoiled with gifts and not just from me and his mama. His grandparents, aunt, and uncle all indulged him. It is maybe over the top for a one-year-old, but I don’t care. My son will have everything he ever wants. I will make sure of it.
“Who wants cake?” Aria asks as she eyes all of us, knife in hand.
“I will if you can post it through the screen.” Thalia chuckles as Theo holds her in his arms. They are in London for a competition, so couldn’t be here today. They made up for it with the personalized rocking horse they had made bespoke for Baron.
“Oh, princess, maybe in a couple more years, that might be a thing.” Christian grins at his youngest daughter.
“It looks so good. If I wasn’t so busy preparing for The London Horses show, I would be on the next flight for a slice,” she pouts.
“I will have one made especially for when you come home for the holidays, tesoro,” Elena adds.
“Thanks, Mama. We better go. I love you all. Happy birthday, baby boy,” Thalia chirps. We all say our goodbyes, and then the iPad goes blank.
“So, who wants a slice?” Aria asks again as she hands a small piece to our son.
“Me, please,” I say, my eyes on my woman.
Her gaze drops to the cake, a small scowl on her perfect face. She is still salty about me missing the holidays. She thinks I just don’t want to be with her and Baron, and no matter how much I tell her otherwise, she refuses to believe it. Soon, she will, though. Soon, everything will be just how it is supposed to be—my father gone and me with my family.
“What are your plans for the holidays, Bishop?” Evan, Aria’s brother, asks with a little smirk on his face. He is trying to make the situation worse. I know he dislikes me because of my relationship with his sister, but he will just have to get over it.
I shrug. “Nothing exciting. I need to be in Vegas for some business with my father and his associates.”
He pins me with a look. “And that is enough to keep you away from your son on Christmas? What is it your father and hisassociatesdo?”
“Not that it’s any of your business but no. It’s not a situation where I want to be away; it’s a situation where I need to be away. And they are businessmen,” I respond curtly, wanting this conversation over with so as not to ruin my son’s first birthday by giving his uncle the fight I know he so desperately wants. Aria hands me a slice of cake, the look in her eyes almost pleading. She can tell that I am pissed, and she doesn’t want things to escalate. She is silently asking me to ignore her brother. “Thanks, princess,” I say, taking the small plate from her.
The tension is thick in the air as we all sit in silence, eating our cake. I concentrate on Baron, laughing when his chubby hands grab at the moist sponge and shove it in his mouth. “Slow down, little man.” I chuckle, wiping frosting from his face. Everyone joins in then, laughing at my son, who is all sticky and messy with sugar.
I exhale. Just like that, the tension is broken.
And it’s all because of my little innocent man, oblivious to the goings on around him.
