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I give Lorenzo a careful nod, and he lets the man up off the ground. When he’s standing, I have someone check his pockets and look for a weapon, wire—anything to give me an excuse to stain my new tile floors. He comes out clean, though, so I tuck my gun into my waistband, and he sheds his jacket casually.
“Let me just say, I’m not a Lacey,” he says first, following me to the kitchen, where I pour myself a whiskey. Giving him a skeptical look, he continues in his explanation. “I’m actually a Donahue. Rich Donahue.”
“Rich,” I repeat between gulps of bitter liquor. “No doubt named by a Lacey, that’s for sure.”
“My father was William,” he explains. “I believe you two met.”
I give my family a careful look, and they make a short trip to the door. Lorenzo stays. Aunt Anita rushes inside the house with a curling iron in her hand. I roll my eyes at her determination, making her reputation as a firecracker in this family a bit comical. Her hair is half undone, but she looks at me like she’s carrying a shotgun, ready to go to war.
“Isabella is upstairs,” I say. “Do you mind?”
She hurries up the stairs, and I’m at least happy that Anita will keep my lover occupied. I’m a bit surprised that my meek aunt was ready to fight with a hot, unplugged curling iron, but I give her credit all the same. Blackthornes are resourceful, after all.
“You have a very peculiar family,” Rich says, watching everyone but Lorenzo leave my new, now-nearly empty home. “How’d they get here so fast?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just tell me why you’re here.”
“I just want to talk.”
“Then fucking talk,” I say. I empty my first glass and consider having another. “Why are you wasting my time, prick?”
He runs his fingers backward through his brown, short hair. “I’ve come to make amends for my family. Well, I guess that’s a bit complicated to understand. I’m a Donahue, my mother’s son. Jacob Lacey, he was my father’s son. They took us separately at birth. My mother decided to divorce William in the middle of her pregnancy, and she chose me. Jacob left with my father.”
“And now you’re on my porch with a death wish,” I hum. “Get to the point quickly, or I’ll have to christen this new house sooner than I anticipated.”
He waves his hands between us, a little boyish in his movements, like he’s not nearly out of his adolescence yet. “I don’t need you to baptize your home in my blood. It wouldn’t be that fun; trust me, I’m anemic. You’ll just end up with a watery version of red on your floors. Horrible for the grout.”
“Get to the fucking point!”
His eyes widen. “I can see the bridge between our families has certainly been burned. I didn’t know about that at all. I’m here as an ally, or a prospective one, at that. My brother and father died, which means everything in their name funnels to my mother. She’s sick right now, terminally, and I’m her power of attorney now. Everything she has comes to me now. Hence—”
“You’re the new Lacey boss,” I cut in.
“Exactly.”
My fingers stroke the handle of my pistol. “Not looking good for you, Rich.”
His eyes follow my movements with precision. “Look, if you kill me, you’ll just end up with my third cousin Bernie. He’s a dumbass. Trust me, you’re better off dealing with me. I don’t want anything to do with guns, drugs, casinos, or strippers. I don’t care what you’re working with, Carter. I just want to make things right between our families.”
My brows hike, and I look to Lorenzo to make sure I’m not going crazy. “He wants to be friends.”
“I don’t think he knows what he’s in for,” Lorenzo taunts.
“Certainly not.”
“Listen, I understand the hilarity in this moment. I do,” Rich says, begging for the benefit of the doubt. “I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m trying to offer you an opportunity here.” He straightens out his shirt before methodically rubbing the wrinkles out of his coat that lies on the back of the chair. “I have a piece of property that might interest you.”
“I already have the downtown development,” I snarl. “Bought it cheap in an auction after the owners mysteriously wound up dead in their mansion.”
“Funny how that happens,” Rich adds, still trying to break the tension here.
“Well, congratulations on that property. It’s a hotspot, for sure. But it’s not the one that I’m referring to. This is one that was passed down from William’s name to my mother’s—and it has inevitably fallen into my lap. It’s a section of the docks.”
I pour myself another crystal glass of whiskey. “Go on.”
“It’s a building my brother was going to dedicate to international trade. It includes four docks, each of them large enough for freight liners. I’d like to offer you the chance to lease the place out while still providing funding to complete the project with our crews.”
It takes everything in my fucking willpower not to burst out in hysterical laughter right now. “Okay. Let me clear this up right now,” I snicker. “You want my family to pay your broken, scattered little remains of a family that you claim no loyalty to as a Donahue to fix a project that Jacob was working on and then make me pay to lease the property after just paying to build it?”
