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“You told me we could do whatever I wanted,” I say, holding up a finger as I storm through the corridors. I lift another finger. “You also conveniently withheld this information from me until after we slept together.” And a third. “Let’s not forget the drugging me and murdering my mentor part. I think you owe me this much.”
“Fine.” Arnie stops in the middle of the corridor.
I slow down and turn back to him. “Fine, what?”
“Fine, I’ll take you to him.”
“Let’s go then.”
“But I have one condition,” he says seriously. “You let me explain how I found you.”
I know I could throw my anger into another argument and convince him otherwise. But what would be the point of all this if I burn out before I’m able to give my brother a piece of my mind?
“Fine.”
Arnie nods reluctantly. “You’re also going the wrong way.”
I bite my tongue and turn on my heel. He walks ahead and I follow, struggling to reign in my emotions.
The ride was tense and silent, the weight of my anger and confusion hanging heavy in the air. My mind raced with a thousand questions, a whirlwind of emotions making it impossible to think clearly.
What had happened to my brother, my family? How is Aimee involved in all this? Why would Connor even need to make a deal with Arnie like that in the first place?
Why would Arnie murder Douglas Jones?
My jaw tightens.
“Arnie.”
I can almost hear him swallow as he refuses to take his eyes off the road. “Yes?”
“Who told you to kill Douglas Jones?”
Arnie freezes up.
“It was a tactical decision,” he deflects.
“Okay, let me get this right in my head so I don’t embarrass myself later,” I say as calmly as I can. “My brother is the Don of the Maguire mob, correct?”
“Correct,” he says carefully.
I nod. This isn’t new information, but I treat it like it is. “And you are my brother’s, what? Business partner? Bitch?”
Arnie visibly winces. “We have formed an alliance where we have equal ownership of operations.”
“In English.”
“I finance his projects. He runs them.”
“You don’t run them?” My mind snags on that piece of information.
Arnie shrugs. “I could, I just don’t.”
“Why?”
“My skills lie elsewhere.”
“Where?”
