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Tristan gives a brusque nod. “More than one.”
“Liam and Tristan have been my friends since we were just a bunch of kids in rival gangs,” Theo says. “I trust them with my life. Liam here used to be an enforcer for the Giovannis, if you can believe it. He’s the best in the business: combat, marksmanship, stealth...”
Liam grins. “Think of me as your personal one-man security detail.”
“Interesting image,” I mutter.
“As for Tristan—” Theo begins.
“I’m in finances,” Tristan says, cutting him off. “I cook the books for the whole family. I’m in charge of the accounts. At least, I was, until your charming husband decided to start playing dirty games, Mrs. Emmerico.”
“Believe me,” I reply derisively, “he’s no husband of mine.”
“He is on paper,” Theo says, his tone darkening at the reminder. “And to a man like Lucas, that makes all the difference.”
“So if you’re planning on taking back London with this new… splinter gang of yours…” I gesture vaguely around at the three of them. “What do you need me for?”
“Because, kid,” Theo says, his eyes meeting mine, “you’re going to be a part of it. And not just as an ally, Vivian. As a leader.”
I swallow, glance around, and then give an uneasy chuckle. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. I could have sworn you just said you wanted me to lead your new criminal enterprise.”
“Help lead, not lead,” Tristan corrects, his eyes moving to Theo. “And frankly, I’m not liking our odds with a novice anywhere near the top.”
“Come on, Tristan,” Liam says. “She’s the daughter of Andrew Dalton. You think she can’t figure out what she’s doing?”
Tristan crosses his arms, unimpressed. “Last time I checked, Liam, leadership wasn’t genetic.”
“I thought we agreed, no more wet blanket shit,” says Liam.
Tristan’s blue eyes flash. “It’s not being a wet blanket, Walker, it’s being a realist.”
“Hey.” I get to my feet, staring Tristan down. “I’ll be the first to admit I don’t know jack shit about being a gangster, okay? But I’m sure as hell not going to keep getting passed around like a prop while everyone in my life makes my decisions for me.” I take a step closer to him, and he arches one dark eyebrow. “I did enough of that after getting married, and all it did was get me shot. So either tell me what you need from me, or send me back to London. But I’m not sitting on my hands anymore.”
There’s a long silence, and as the tension mounts between me and Tristan, I realize just how much taller he is than me—how much more commanding.
But I hold my ground. I meant what I said.
Liam breaks the silence with a laugh. “Damn, Vivi. You’re feisty. Just wait until I show you how to really make ’em hurt.”
Theo shrugs in a way that practically screams, I told you so, then turns back to Tristan. “It’s decided, Tristan. I’m taking my city back, and you two are going to help me. You, too, Vivian,” he adds, putting his hands on my waist. “Lucas won’t know what hit him.”
The meeting goes on a while longer as the others sort out more mundane business details, and it’s nearly dawn when Theo finally calls it for the night. “Come on, kid,” he says, helping me up from the couch. “You’re falling asleep sitting up.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, blinking. “Long night, that’s all. I, uh, I guess I should turn in.”
“I should say so,” Tristan observes coolly before nodding to Theo. “I’ll see you all later, then.” He retreats, raising a hand to Theo as he does but making no other attempt to say goodbye.
“Bright and early,” Liam mutters in agreement. Sighing, he gets to his feet and gives me another one of those warm smiles. Something stirs in my stomach. “Nice to officially meet you, Vivi.”
“So I’m really ‘Vivi’ now?” I ask through a yawn.
“You are to me.” Liam nods, first to Theo and then to me. “Until tomorrow, right?”
“I guess so,” I mutter through a yawn. The real question isn’t whether I’ll see any of them tomorrow, I suppose; it’s what, exactly, tomorrow is going to bring.
* * *
By the time we disperse,my head is spinning, and as Theo leads me to the master bedroom on the upper floor, I’m not even sure which questions I want to ask first.
