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I look at Tristan, who looks like he's ready to spit fire. "It doesn't matter," he says through gritted teeth, meeting my gaze. "She hurt your friend, Vivian. And that means she hurtyou. That's all I need to know.”
"Hey, take it easy," Liam cautions, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Let's just step back for a second. We have to keep our priorities straight.”
I nod. “He’s right," I say, trying to push it all to the back of my mind. I don't want to think about it—not yet. "So what does all this tell us?”
"It tells us that Lucas now has the Italian mafia behind him," Tristan says, and I can see the difficulty he's having maintaining his professionalism. "It won't be long before the other families start to catch on, and then they're going to want in. Whoever gets in on the ground floor is going to stand to benefit immensely. They're already stepping on each other's toes.”
"You really think they would leave Victor for Lucas?" I ask. "Before he's even taken over for him?”
"They already are," Liam replies. "The only question is, how do we stop it before it turns into an all-out war?”
Tristan's expression is somber, and as I watch him, I can sense the wheels turning in his head. "It's already an all-out war," he says finally, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "And it's going to take a lot more than just the four of us to swing this in our favor.”
"What do you have in mind?" I ask, putting a hand on his arm.
Tristan relaxes under my touch, and he turns to look at me again. The clouds have left his eyes, and I can see the characteristic, determined sparkle of his blue irises.
Liam, as if reading his friend’s mind, starts shaking his head. "No," he says. "Huh-uh. No way, man. You've had some batshit ideas before, but this takes the fucking cake.”
"We're running out of options," Tristan says, turning to him. "If we want to get ahead of this, we need to do something drastic.”
Liam crosses his arms. "Theo will lose his shit.”
"Not if he understands what's at stake here," Tristan insists. His blue eyes find mine, his expression immediately softening. "We're not talking about power anymore, Liam. We're talking aboutVivian,and Theo knows it.As long as this son of a bitch is running loose in London, she's never going to be safe. He's already done enough damage, and I won't stand by while Sienna makes her a target.”
I glance between the two of them in confusion. "Sorry to interrupt," I quip, "but if you could enlighten me as to what I'm exactly missing here…?"
The guys turn to me, their expressions alight with determination and love. "We have to take this to the top," Tristan says.
"The top?" I shake my head.
"The top of everything," Liam supplies. “Your parents, Vivi.”
ChapterForty-Three
If you told me three months ago that I would be showing up at averypublic downtown French bistro to talk to my parents after everything that's happened, with three boyfriends in tow and absolutely no plan to speak of, I would have called you crazy. Hell, I feel crazynow. The only reason I even dare to approach the front door of the chic, upscale restaurant is because the guys are all here with me, and I know they won't let me get sent back to Lucas. Even still, my heart picks up its pace as we mount the steps leading to the front door: Theo behind me, with Liam and Tristan on either side, each of them keeping me well within their reach, their eyes gleaming with possessiveness as their bodyguards bring up the rear.
"It's all right, Kid," Theo murmurs as he holds the door open for me. "We're here. We're not going to let anything happen to you.”
"He's right, Vivi," Liam affirms. "We're here to talk. That's it. Anyone tries anything and they get to deal with us.”
Tristan steps up beside him. "Same goes for your parents," he warns.
I glance at each of them in turn, my breath coming in quick little spurts as I step through the door and into the restaurant. The soft din of voices and the clatter of silverware on fine china masks the noise from the bustling street just a few feet beyond the building. It's not a particularly big place, but it manages to project the feeling of intimacy and exclusivity at the same time.
The perfect place for a mob meetup,I think as we file inside. It might as well have been ripped straight out ofThe Godfather.There's a small, round table tucked in an alcove in the back, with a single candle standing in the middle alongside a bottle of wine. Wordlessly, Theo, Tristan, Liam, and I are escorted to it, leaving the bodyguards to stand in an inconspicuous spot near the doorway, scoping out the crowd.
Once we're seated, a waiter approaches and takes our drink orders. Tristan orders the wine, and Liam and Theo follow suit with whiskey. I don't even know if I should drink or not, so I stick to water. I'm entirely too nervous for alcohol; besides, I need my wits about me right now. We're here to gain ground, and if this goes badly, we'll have blown our only shot.
It's not long before they arrive: the parents I left behind when I escaped the hospital, the faces of one of the most powerful families in London. To my astonishment, however, they don't move with the authority and command that I'm used to, and their faces are lined, like they haven't been sleeping.
But is it because I've been gone... or just because their hold on the city is at risk?
Violet trails along behind them as they approach our table, her eyes wide with what might be fear and might be indecision. She's the first one to break the silence. "Hey, sis.”
"Hey," I echo. "It's, uh, been a minute." I turn to my parents, making a point to keep my voice steady. "Mum. Dad.”
When they reach me, the guys rise to their feet, taking their positions and surrounding me in a protective bubble. "Thank you for agreeing to meet us," Theo says stiffly, nodding at the empty chairs on the far side of the table. "Please, sit down.”
