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He was right about his assessment of relationships as well, not that I’d let him know. Grinning, I lifted my beer in recognition.
“And stop thinking about that bitch who betrayed your love,” he recommended. “Margaret was a real piece of work who deserved our wrath.”
Our wrath. All for one and one for all. Our motto from years before.
What he’d wanted to forget was that Margaret hadn’t just been a bitch, carving out a portion of my heart then crushing it between her fingers. She’d been a cunning businesswoman that had almost bankrupted our entire regime before sailing away to Europe.
Shit like that was difficult to forget.
Even after all these years.
CHAPTER 12
Delaney
There were rules to follow in life, not just those created by institutions and governments. My father had ensured I knew that early on.
My mother had broken every one of them.
Then again, my father wasn’t entirely a goody two-shoes either. I’d always looked up to him, even through the difficult times when Mommy dearest had almost convinced me my father wasn’t the hero he portrayed himself to be.
After their nasty divorce, I’d become a troubled kid, turning to alcohol and partying, wearing Goth clothes for two solid years. Had my mother allowed Daddy to know I was no longer his little girl? Hell, no. She would rather spit nails than admit she’d driven a bolt of evil into my system. My father would have shit in his pants had he known I almost overdosed the single time I took an illegal drug. Thank God, I’d learned more than one lesson, the four days spent in the hospital some of the worst in my life.
Then there’d been the mandated counseling sessions, none of which my mother had attended or had ever mentioned again. So, yeah. I’d made rules for myself then, ones I’d fought to follow, to remain obedient to myself so I could stay alive. At least it seemed like I’d done a pretty good job. Sadly, it had put a larger rift between me and my mother that had never been repaired.
What I’d realized as I watched my mother go through her throes of anger and hatred was that she was hurting inside. She truly loved my father but didn’t like his friends or his ruthless ways. Meaning, my father hovered on one side of the law whereas Francois Thibodeaux had been born into and enjoyed the dark side.
That’s why I was making a mental list of all the reasons I should keep my distance from a powerful, merciless mafia Capo. New rules that I would find the fortitude to follow. It was a title I’d overheard a long time before, something used to denote the second most powerful man inside a mafia family. He made more money than my father, had more clout in the world of politics, and the family owned half of New Orleans and beyond.
Francois had grown up like royalty, namely because they also made certain they provided funding for various nonprofit organizations and other charities over the years. They never took credit either, but there were hospital wings and art galleries named after them.
They were considered untouchable, relentless in their business practices, the FBI and the DEA only breaking through their thick armor once, able to imprison the patriarch of the Thibodeaux family for a few years. Hell, both brothers had been inPeople Magazinemore than once as the hottest bachelors in the world.
Their rise to fame and fortune was noteworthy.
That didn’t mean they weren’t predators, especially the man I’d seduced, the one I continued to tingle over. No, a list needed to be made that would remind me on a daily basis that I was a complete fool if I dared cross that line again.
Rule number one was never to make eye contact with the man under any circumstances. When my nagging inner voice had bugged me as to why, I’d laughed out loud. In the middle of an empty room. Because as soon as I did, my thoughts drifted to the sexiness of his inked arms and the three-day scruff covering his strong jaw. And the fact I’d kissed him.
And fucked him.
That in turn caused me to behave like some twelve-year-old, the crap spewing from my mouth completely unlike the adult version of me. I’d learned the hard way that biting my tongue was usually in my best interest.
Rule number two should be easy enough. Stay at least ten feet away from him. The why didn’t take rocket science. The electricity we shared could power every single household and business in New Orleans and then some. I was honestly surprised we hadn’t burst into flames only hours before. The fact my father hadn’t noticed the oppressive heat meant either he was tired, or I’d managed to be a very good actress, which I doubted.
The final rule I was uncertain there was a chance to maintain. Escape. As soon as possible. Somehow, I knew the man would hunt me down.
Sighing, I rubbed my eyes, fingering the stunning photograph on my screen. I wanted to use it as a screensaver. I wondered if that would give away my increasing infatuation. Twilight had fallen,which meant the larger-than-life man would be arriving soon to accept his duty.
Protecting me.
Why did I feel like nothing more than a prisoner in my father’s house?
“What are you doing?” My father’s voice was harsher than normal, making me jump.
“Shit!”
“Watch your mouth,” he said even more sternly.
