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Tilting my head, I was slow to respond, not sure I heard him correctly. “You know as well as I do that the fire wasn’t an accident.”
“Doesn’t matter what we know. The only thing that matters is what the report said.”
But why would the report say it was an accident? This has Liam written all over it.
I held up my glass, and Vlad refilled it with a grin. “This is a great opportunity. You can make everything exactly the way you want it to be.”
“Why are you so happy about this?”
“I can finally get a bigger fridge.”
I smiled, despite still feeling like I was losing hold on my dream. “You’re only getting a bigger fridge if the insurance pays for it.”
We spent the rest of the day cleaning up. When Vlad dropped me back at the apartment, Pete not far behind, I was tired, covered in soot, and wondering if it was all worth it. Because one thing I realized today while scrubbing black walls: my dream suddenly wasn’t the restaurant anymore. If Liam wasn’t there, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be either.
12
Liam
I didn’t usually pay much attention to the people around me, unless they served a purpose or were members of my family. I didn’t see the point in wasting effort on something so pointless as idle chitchat. I also wasn’t usually cruel—unnecessarily, anyway.
But ever since coming back to Chicago last night, I’d been on a rampage. So far, I’d fired my personal assistant, shot one of my men in the foot for lying to me, and was on my way to pissing off Gabriel. Scratch that, I was already pissing him off.
He was pacing in front of my desk, his hand twitching with the need to reach for his gun. I’d known him his whole life, could recognize his tells better than he did.
“We’re meeting with the Russians tonight. And you don’t look ready.” Gabriel shook out his hand. “Why don’t you look ready? I thought you went to San Francisco to fuck her out of your system?”
I felt the familiar rage build inside me but knew I couldn’t afford to punch him in his smug face. At least not today. We still had a lot to get through, and a pouting brother would only delay my business. “She’s none of your business. Talk about her like that again and I’ll find a new second. I’m sure Jude could be convinced for the right price.”
Gabriel’s hand brushed past his gun. “Fuck you.” He stopped in front of my desk, placing his hands on the edge and leaning forward. “You know what’s on the line, fuckface. You can’t afford to lose your head over a woman. Not now. Not ever. Leave her the fuck alone.”
His words sank into me, tearing up my insides with their truths. Truths I didn’t want to hear. One night with Quinn hadn’t been enough. A year wouldn’t be enough.
She was my calm in a raging storm. And I’d been a fool to think I could purge her from my system by giving in to my desires for one night. That was all it was supposed to be. But now I wanted more. The feelings I had for her were consuming me. The thought of walking away choked me.
I wanted to spend every minute of the time I had left with Quinn, not talking to my brother who was one “fuck” away from shooting me.
He wouldn’t kill me, but he’d put the bullet somewhere that’d hurt. “I still have time. And how I choose to spend it—or with whom—is none of your goddamn business. Now get out.”
Shaking his head, Gabriel pushed off the desk and stormed out. I knew this wasn’t over. He’d be back with more sage advice. But I’d had enough for today.
My phone pinged with an incoming message, and I scrambled to read it. But instead of Pete or Quinn herself, it was our thieving manager, Ernesto.
Not only had he found out invaluable insight into the Irish’s business, but they seemed to be grappling with the unknown player as much as we were.
Scrolling past his message, I reread Pete’s report for the fourth time. All day I’d barely paid attention to my meetings. Instead, I was wondering what Quinn was up to, waiting for Pete to send a message like a teenager waiting on his date for prom. She was a weakness I couldn’t afford but was too selfish to give up yet.
I needed more time. I always tired of people. The same had to happen with her, no matter how much I could see her in my future. A future I didn’t have much control over, despite now being head of the family.
Something that would be made official next week. And that was all the time I had with Quinn. I shouldn’t have left her behind in San Francisco, cutting our time together even shorter. But I’d quickly come to realize it was impossible for me to deny her anything. And I knew how important the restaurant was to her.
Once she found out I’d pursued her while fully aware we were only ever going to be temporary, she’d cut me out of her life.
And I was in no position to do anything about it. Feeling helpless wasn’t something I was used to. Usually, I controlled every situation. This time I had no choice but to bend to the terms of the marriage contract, unless I wanted to start a war we couldn’t win.
Since I was already screwed, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to call her. Hearing her voice would help me get through the rest of my night. And Pete had reported her return to her apartment thirty minutes ago. She’d be without distractions.
The phone rang and rang, but she didn’t pick up. As soon as it stopped, I called again.
