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Thing is, I don’t forget. I don’t forgive.
“Might be nothing,” Tony says. I give him a sharp look. “Thought he was long gone.”
“Popov?” I laugh. “Fucks like that don’t just vanish. Not unless they’re put in the ground.”
“And he did some things for Finnegan.”
Ah… Pieces are sliding into place. Derek’s gone, and some see his territory up for grabs. I don’t give a fuck about them. One wrong move, and those people and their families will die. Rose might have those holdings, but I have her, and only a fool or someone with a death wish would cross me and what’s mine.
“So did a lot of lowlifes.” I take a swallow of my drink. “I need all this looked into. If Ivan’s behind it, we need to track him. If it’s someone else…”
“We need that, too.”
I meet his gaze. “Get back to me the moment you find something out.”
* * *
After Tony leaves, I scroll through the information. On its own, it’s what I expected, but combine that with my name making rumbles in New York—a place I have standing in but don’t push into because being king of Queenstown is enough power—well, it’s something else entirely.
Could be Popov. Could be someone else seeing an opportunity. Or stars, as they fucking say, have aligned.
I don’t know, but one thing’s clear.
Someone’s getting ready for something, and I need to find out what.
The phone rings again, and I hit answer. “Garcia, talk.”
“Just dropped Genius home, and Ms. Germaine is back from their shopping trip and fresh from her meeting.”
Somehow, I bite back the sigh. “Meeting? What meeting?”
“Ms. Germaine is…very determined.”
Rose is stubborn as fuck, a pain in my ass, and I can’t stop my smile. “Rose is the fucking devil in female form.” I take a swallow of my drink. “Send her in here.”
“Already told her that, sir. She refused.”
Christ. “The other things?”
“Extra security’s hard, because she’s excellent at picking it,” he mutters. “But I got someone I know in, a woman. Still working on the other thing, sir.”
“Still working on it how?”
“It’ll take time is all.”
“Good. Stand by. And tell Rose this is her last chance—send her in here.” I hang up and lean back in my chair. Rose should have come straight to me, but she didn’t. It riles me up and excites me and pisses me off, all in equal measures. Rose is mine and we both know it, but she pushes and tests boundaries. Fortunately for her, I’m here for it.
I shouldn’t be. Our engagement is four months old, and if I was a good man, I’d push her away, but I’m not and I can’t. How can I?
There may have been a time when she would be safer without me, but now? She’s too entwined, in too deep, and I can’t let her go. For her, I’d kill. I’d raze mountains, even give her the idiotic, over the top, romantic wedding she wants in Italy.
Whatever she wants, I give her.
As I top up my drink, my door bangs open without a knock, and my balls tighten.
Fuck. Rose is stunning.
She stands in the doorway, dressed in a black business suit, fifties-style, with a pencil skirt that makes my dick hard. The buttons on the fitted jacket are red, as are her stockings and the silk bow of the shirt beneath. Since this is Rose and she’s going through some kind of phase, she’s finished it with a sweeping hat befitting the era.
