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Rising in one fluid motion, I slam him to the wall at his back with my hand at his throat. “If you so much as corrupt a single cell in her body, you won’t make it long enough to rule a sector. Do I make myself clear?”
He smirks, and it infuriates me. This arsehole, along with the other still stuffing his face with sausage, show no fear, and it irritates the shit out of me. They are just like me. Just as ruthless.
“You are no better than me,” Sebastian growls, grabbing my wrist to try to remove my hand from his neck. “Do you think she’s going to stick around once she knows all your secrets? All the people you’ve killed to get what you want?”
Letting him go roughly, I have no comeback because he is right. I’m living in a complete fantasy land, thinking Isla and I can ever be together. Avoiding Dante’s almost panicked expression as he’s probably thinking the same, I sit and go back to my food ignoring them both.
There is only one way forward if I’m going to make sure Isla stays in my life, and it’s not a decision I can take lightly.
But it’s already made, and all three of us know it and need to prepare for the backlash.
“Try it with Isla and see how far you get,” I say. “If she wants you, I won’t stand in your way, but if she rejects you, you leave her the fuck alone and never lay eyes on her again.”
“Another deal, Don. She will be mine.”
“Ours,” I say softly. “She doesn’t have to choose if she doesn’t want to. But if she does…”
“Then we honour that,” Sebastian says. “I’m not a complete arsehole, Gideon. I can be a decent human being on occasion.”
“Not often enough,” Dante murmurs.
“Isla might change that.”
With that said, he picks up his plate and leaves me and Dante, simmering in a stew of our own making, but not even knowing where to start with this shitshow.
45
DANTE
“One down, bigger one to go,” I drawl, finishing off the best cooked breakfast I’ve ever had in my life and sitting back.
“I don’t even know why you’re pissed off. You got everything you ever wanted.”
Shaking my head, I inhale deeply. “How can you deny that you shot that gun?”
“Easily,” he retorts. “Frank came at me with the gun, we struggled, you got involved, and I stumbled, and the gun went off. I wasn’t even touching it. You were.”
“In your fucking dreams,” I snarl. “You are seriously deluded.”
“How? How am I deluded? I wasn’t near the weapon that shot him.”
“Neither was I!” I roar, standing up and running my hand through my hair. “Jesus. You pulled the trigger, shot Frank, he died, and you made me Head of the South London sector because you couldn’t take it, and you knew I wanted it. But then you fucked off and left me to deal with the fallout.”
“No, that’s not what happened. You were made Head because you took out the current one.”
“We are going round in circles here,” I spit out in exasperation.
“So let’s think about this logically then. If you didn’t pull the trigger, and neither did I, then that leaves Frank. He shot himself.”
“Could be…” I think that over. “I mean, stranger things have happened.”
We stare at each other for a few moments.
“Fuck. Do you think?”
He shrugs. “Has to be. I really thought it was you, and that’s why I was so fucking mad. I had a position lined up for you. I took out Mark so you could have Chester, and then this happened, and I had to give you South London.”
“Jesus. What a shitshow. You really took out Mark?” I ask after a beat. “For me?”
