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If this were any other time, I would make a witty retort. Who am I kidding? Gasping in faux shock, I say, “Where would we be without your deductive reasoning skills?”
Everyone laughs. “Shut up, asshole. I’m just saying maybe we should’ve talked more on the drive over,” Wes states.
“I think we’re set for what needs to be discussed,” Sebastian announces, then peers around the elevator, saying more with his eyes than his words. Don’t reveal more than what’s necessary.
The door slides open, and we file out only to be greeted by every member of the Council. My gaze immediately zeros on Ariah’s father. Aaron Bradford’s composure appears calm and collected, but his eyes burn with fury. An older man who looks like Aaron in twenty more years and another Bradford family member stands beside him.
“Glad to see you boys have decided to grace us with your presence,” Donald Edgewood mocks. The set of his jaw is so much like his son’s when they’re annoyed.
Sebastian elbows Owen as Lev elbows me. Owen and I look at each other and smirk while rolling our eyes.
“You know the routine. Lock your shit away, go through the scanner, and enter the SCIF. We’re limited for time, and there’s a lot that must be discussed,” Mr. Edgewood instructs.
It takes about thirty minutes for each of us to go through the security protocol to enter the room. A screen is already being lowered as we take our seats. “I thought this was Council business?” Wes questions, staring at who I assume is Ariah’s grandfather and possibly her uncle, which are shocking developments in and of themselves.
I only interacted with the guards and Aaron when I visited Ariah in Bronston. If I’m right, the Bradford line went from being extinct to having three generations of family members.
“We’re asking the questions here,” Wes’s father barked.
“Yeah, that’s no longer going to work for us,” Wes snaps, meeting his father’s glare in a challenge. “We’re either equals at this table, or we walk.”
Aww, our little Wes is growing a pair. I had to grip the arms of my chair to refrain from clapping. This showdown has been a long time coming. Mr. Edgewood spent years after Owen’s kidnapping verbally abusing his son, and Wes always took it. The reasoning behind it didn’t matter. It would take years for them to work things out if they ever did. But Wes needed to find his voice before any of that could happen.
“Excuse me?” Mr. Edgewood spit.
“We don’t have time for this, Donald. My granddaughter’s life was already at risk before the stunt these fuck-ups pulled tonight,” Ariah’s grandfather levels us with a glare before turning his vehemence on the Council. “If your fathers were alive, they’d be kicking your asses. What have you idiots been doing while I was in hiding, picking each other’s noses? You’re behaving like children instead of leaders.”
I cough to cover up my snort. Tobias Bradford was not dead. Tonight’s meeting just got more interesting.
“What do you mean?” Owen says, jumping from his seat. “How has what happened tonight put her in more danger?”
“Sit down,” Sebastian commands. “We need to recognize that to keep Ariah safe, we need to work together. It’s the only way we’ll ever be able to get our girl back.”
A smile curves on my face. He’s finally getting it. I know Wes seems like he’d be the most difficult one to be on board, but it’s actually Sebastian. Wes is a broody asshat, but he’s like a giant teddy bear. He’s been writing to her in his journal for months. Sebastian is jaded—his heart was ripped out and put through a shredder by Vivian. She fucked Sebastian’s father and married his former best friend, and she still had the gall to try and win him back. I flex my jaw at the thought of the dead wench’s name. Sebastian will have to open the vault that stores his heart before he gives Ariah the key to unlock the chains binding his love.
“Why don’t we all calm down,” Aaron says, gazing at everyone around the table. He pauses until Owen, Mr. Edgewood, and Ariah’s grandfather sit down. “Now, what were you doing at Le Toucher tonight?”
Leaning forward, Sebastian rests his hands on the table. “We’ve been planning for tonight since summer.”
Donald’s face draws tight—his face flushes red. “Why are we only hearing about this now?” he mutters through clenched teeth.
“Because Ariah’s life is at stake—hers and our babies’. The plan you’ve been employing is moving slower than a snail,” I quip. “We refuse to be separated from Ariah or miss her pregnancy longer than we have to.”
Aaron nods. “While I respect that, I won’t have any of you playing chicken with my daughter’s and future grandchildren’s well-being. So, tell us what you’ve all been up to.”
Wes meets each of our eyes, waiting for the confirmation we’re on board. Once he has it, he replies, “First, tell us who this guy is.”
Before anyone can answer, the man in question announces, “Liam Bradford. Ariah’s uncle.” The younger Bradford brother meets each of our stares with derision, obviously unimpressed with what he sees. “Now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way. Let’s cut the bullshit and move on to topics that really matter—Ariah.”
Satisfied with the answer, Wes says, “Okay.” Then, for the next two hours, we divulge everything, from the meeting with Samantha’s mother, which they were already aware of, to how close Teagan is to breaking the code to deactivate the chip in Owen’s arm.
“When do you expect Teagan to have what she needs?” Mr. Jefferson inquires. I know he also is concerned with keeping Ariah safe, but I’m sure his son is his main priority.
Taking the lead, Lev explains, “We’re hoping for any day now. We want to be free of Matthew Baker and his soul-sucking, vindictive half-sister, Samantha Davenport, before the engagement party.”
I hum my agreement. “We don’t want Ariah to believe we’d actually marry that delusional bitch.”
“We’ve answered all of your questions. Now, explain how you knew about tonight and why you were there,” Owen requests.
