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She stared at me, like she didn’t quite understand the question.
“To be a part of this life. To embrace the underworld rather than run from it.” It divided friends and families. Made people terrified to associate with you. And since it was a dangerous line of work, that was a legitimate concern.
“I respect my father for what he’s built. I want to be part of it.”
“You’ve never considered doing something above the table?” I asked. “Running a flower shop…working in a restaurant…doing something legal?”
Her eyebrow cocked. “Sounds like you’re trying to dissuade me.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of woman that can be dissuaded.” When she set her mind to something, she didn’t change it. In my limited time with her, I’d realized she was stubborn like a man.
“And you’d be right.”
“I just worry about you.”
“Why?” she asked. “My father is a very powerful man.”
“But when you’re rich and powerful, everyone knows it—and everyone wants to take you down. You’ve got a target on your back. You have to look over your shoulder, even when you sleep. Your father makes it look easy, but I know he’s got to stay several steps ahead of his enemies, book an event he has no intention of attending just to throw guys off the scent. I do the same thing. Own several properties all over the place, so no one knows where you’re staying. Tell some men you’re going to one location then go somewhere else…just to flush out a rat.”
Her eyes were locked on mine, hanging on to every word.
“I meant what I said before. If there comes a time when it is you running the show, you’re going to need someone you trust to watch your back. Others will see you as an easy opponent and are more likely to fuck with you. You need a man to keep the dogs away?—”
“And you’re that man?” she asked, but this time with a smile.
I stared at her hard, almost lured back into the flirtation. “I’m just being honest with you. I’m surprised your father hasn’t had this conversation with you. He must have a plan.”
“He said his men and his allies will look after me in his absence.”
“Once a king dies, so does the loyalty of his men,” I said. “That’s just how it goes. He overestimates his power beyond the grave. Do you even know how to shoot a gun?”
She chuckled.
“I’m serious.”
“You think I’m my father’s daughter and I don’t know how to shoot a gun?”
My eyes narrowed, trying to discern a lie in her words.
“Would you like me to show you?” She extended her hand across the table.
The curiosity was too much to ignore, so I pulled my handgun from my jeans and slid it across the table toward her.
She didn’t fire the gun, but she did something more impressive. She dismantled it piece by piece, laid out all the components on the table along with the bullets that were in the barrel. Then she put it back together and slipped the bullets back inside before she slid it back to me. “Yes, I know how to handle a gun.”
The grin stretched my face as I shoved the gun into the back of my jeans. “My mistake.”
“I can handle myself, Axel.”
“What else can you handle?”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t need a gun to kill you, sweetheart.” I could choke her to death with a single hand. I could break her arm with a single twist. Her thin body had no chance against someone built like me.
“Would you like me to show you that as well?”
My jeans instantly felt snug, just the thought sexy. “As enticing as that sounds, I don’t think your father would appreciate seeing me raise a hand against you.”
