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CHAPTER4
Marco
The woman in red is law enforcement, absolutely. What level, what agency, though I’m not sure yet. Red hair, blue eyes, a round face, and the healthy glowing skin of youth, with her lips set in a grim, determined line.
Still, she is a gift, no matter where she came from, because I’ve been hoping for someone like her. I’ve been hoping I’d have the answer to my problem, and it’s been dropped right into my lap like a fucking present.
Her looks are the biggest gift of the night, though.
There are two reasons for my gratitude.
One, she is absolutely gorgeous, a woman I would not mind fucking stupid right here behind one of the Christmas trees.
Two, she and her team might finally help me boot my brother off his throne. He needs to go, and I’ve been hashing out ways to do it—not just for the last few minutes, or months, but for years.
Having the feds involved will mean extra manpower, the kind necessary to finally dismantle our organization once and for all. I don’t even give a shit if I fall along with the rest of the chips. Things have to change, and the longer I wait, the more damage Stefan causes.
I just needed this last piece, this last prod, and that’s where this woman comes in. I don’t even know her name, but the guard is standing there waiting for me to answer.
“Are you trying to tell me my brother is having one of his fits?”
The guard’s face goes blank. “Sir.”
I call them his temper tantrums. Whenever something hasn’t gone Stefan’s way, he blows a gasket, wanting heads to roll for whatever the slight he perceives, whether it’s real or imagined. I should have known something would set him off tonight. I’m surprised he managed to last this long. Stefan has grown too powerful, too fucking fat headed. Shouldn’t his position bring a little bit of personal culpability? Apparently not. It shouldn’t be that way.
Looks like I’m going to have to balance him and this woman, because there is no way I’m letting her out of my sight.
Finally, I straighten. It’s hard to drag my gaze away from this woman’s petite frame to the man beside me. She’s so small, I could throw her over my shoulder and carry her away, maybe to some darkened corner to peel that dress off her and bare the silky skin underneath.
“How bad is it?” At least Stefan isn’t out on the main floor causing a scene. What would his new business associates think of him then?
“Bad,” the guard notes.
With that one word, I have my answer.
“He’s upstairs in one of the conference rooms.”
The general assessment is that I’ll need to hurry my ass up there before he causes too much property damage to be ignored, even with a fat check.
Okay. I weigh the options before turning to the redhead.
My father would roll over in his grave if he saw this bullshit. Stefan is proud of his accomplishments and wants to dig deeper, while I’m stuck in the situation, bound by blood and obligation, unable to walk away and hands tied when it comes to making a difference.
I arrive at a decision and send the guard off, bending to whisper in her ear. “I know who you’re supposed to be tonight. The hair gives you away.”
“I’m Natasha,” the woman answers with conviction, but she shudders against me, and I’ve got her close enough to feel every tiny movement of her fragile frame.
“Well, Natasha,” I stress the name and pause, watching her reaction. “You’re going to have to stay out of the way, unless you want to be killed. If you move, then you’re taking a risk. There is another pressing obligation I have to see to, and when I come back, we’re going to talk. Trust me. I’ll berightback. Do not move.”
She stares at me in confusion. I fucking hate leaving her, especially when I want to know more about her, why she’s here tonight, but if I don’t see to Stefan, hell is going to break loose. I’m the only one who can head him off before he detonates.
“I’ll come back for you.”
I wait for her to bob her head in answer before casting a final look back. It takes more effort than I would have thought to turn on my heel and head for the elevator to the second floor. The sound of the crowd and the damnable Christmas music slowly fades, and once the doors close, they disappear entirely. There’s only me and the evenness of my breathing, a stark contrast to my racing pulse. When the doors open again, I’m composed and striding down the hallway.
It takes no time at all to find where Stefan has sequestered himself, far away from the party.
I open the door and duck in time to avoid the chair thrown at me.
