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“Couple of the bars we own on Eighth, and two of the corner markets off of Park.”
I nodded, knowing exactly which ones he was talking about because those businesses were directly tied to the other side of my family's business. The side I stayed far away from, which included selling a whole different kind of product.
“Have you figured a way out of this peacefully yet, little brother?”
I hadn't figured out shit despite constantly working the problem. In between handling my major income stream, which was the pharmaceutical corporation I’d established several years ago and watching my passion project—my NFL team, the Cougars—make it into the playoffs, I had little room in my mind for problem-solving.
I was down to sleeping maybe three hours a night. Pair that with the willpower I had to exude to not give in to Serenity's increasing propositions, and I was stretched really fucking thin.
“Not yet,” I finally answered. “I’m working on it. The fact that Doyle hasn't made any demands or threats is concerning. I assumed he’d ask for money. Recompense for his stolen asset.”
“Maybe he's just warming up to the idea of having you as a son-in-law,” he said. “You guys have been playing in that billionaire’s game for what, two years now?”
“Three,” I answered. “And the last thing Doyle is excited about is having me as a son-in-law. We may be civil at the poker table, but he hates our family. He'd never see us as an ally.”
“You married his daughter. Doesn't that automatically make us allies?” Dante continued before I could respond. “Oh, wait. No. That's only if you did it with his and the family’s blessing. Not exactly your style, is it?”
“Fuck you,” I said half-heartedly, knowing he was baiting me on purpose, trying to make light of a very serious situation like he always did. I loved him for it, but it could be annoying as hell.
“Speaking of that,” he continued, like I hadn't said anything. “Has anything changed in that department? Because you know if it did, then I'm sure we could easily get the information back to O'Brien, and he'd likely write her off as damaged goods. Move on to something else.”
“No,” I grumbled. “I'm not going to use her just so the O’Briens back off.”
“Since when have you ever been a white fucking knight?” he asked genuinely.
“I'm the furthest thing from that.”
“I don't know, little brother,” he said. “You've gone fully legit, made your billion the legal way, and have a stellar NFL team that rakes in cash without you lifting a finger. Now you've got a pretty little princess for a wife. Sounds knight-like to me.”
“That's just on the surface,” I countered. “And besides, you're not taking into account my laundry list of crimes from my past.”
“You were never charged with anything,” he said. “Only investigated. Plus, I’m pretty sure you already atoned for those,” he said. “And I'm also sure that your new wife wouldn’t be surprised or scared of sordid histories. Hell, with the way the O’Briens run things, I'm sure she's seen way worse than you and I ever did growing up.”
I hated that he was likely right, but in the small conversations that Serenity and I had in the past two weeks, she had never once tiptoed toward her upbringing. Nothing more than I already knew, anyway.
In fact, she kept most of the attention on me. Sending little inquisitive texts after I’d set her up with a new phone, always asking questions about what I liked, whether it be music or food or hobbies. The thought of that had a smile shaping my lips and warmth spreading through my chest.
I’d never had unrestricted access to Serenity, so I'd never been able to have casual get-to-know-each-other conversations with her. And sure, there was a hallway and a phone screen between us, but it was real. And I couldn’t deny how much I valued each small piece of herself that she revealed to me.
“Even if she wouldn’t be surprised,” I finally said. “I’m trying to keep her away from all that. After the way Doyle has treated her, she deserves a life without that darkness.”
“I hear you, Sir Maxfield.”
“Just because you’re my brother doesn’t mean I won’t shoot you,” I grumbled.
Dante laughed. “You’d break your no-more-guns rule, just for me?” He sounded proud. “I feel so damn special.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Call me if anything changes.”
“Yeah, same,” Dante said, before hanging up the phone.
I tossed my phone to the side, letting it plop on the bed before I swung my legs over it. I’d been ready to sleep, but after that conversation, I was restless.
Throwing on a T-shirt and some sweats, I headed toward the kitchen, hoping a snack would help settle me enough to get more than three hours of sleep tonight.
It was just past ten, which was the earliest I'd ever attempted to go to bed in the last few weeks, but I was dragging. It was starting to show in my response time on business calls, and while I knew I needed to handle my family business, that didn't mean I needed to sacrifice what I'd built on my own.
Serenity sat atop one of the counters, leaning against the cabinet as she dug a spoon into a pint of ice cream, her pink lips wrapping around the bite in a way that made heat flow straight to my dick.
