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“You think I give a fuck about an inquisition?” Pushing away from my desk, I stand tall. If he thinks he can come in here and shove all this shit down my throat, he has another thing coming. “They can dig into anything they want, because they won’t find shit. And you know why they won’t find it? Because we both know that to dig into us, they have to dig into themselves.”
“Careful, son, it’s a long way down to fall from the top.” Benedict stands. “I won’t let you jeopardise everything we’ve worked for. I won’t let you ruin what’s left of Arabella. I won’t let you drag my daughter down into whatever pit you end up in.”
A dry laugh leaves my mouth, “Arabella doesn’t need me for that. She can do it all by herself with her Russian boyfriend.”
He turns to my father with a shake of his head. The look they exchange is glaringly obvious.
Motherfuckers! “You already know.”
“It’s my job to know what the fuck is going on. It’s your job to keep your fucking head down and keep a crystal-clean image.” Benedict sits back into one of the chairs. “I’ll handle Arabella and the Russian. You handle this.” He circles his finger in the air, motioning around the office.
Perching on the edge of my desk, I laugh at his words. He really thinks I’m going to sit back and wait for him to fix my marriage?
“Get out.”
“Christopher!” Dad launches from his seat, stopping right in front of me. “You have no idea what’s at stake.”
“There’s nothing at sta
ke. Not for me. You can protect whoever you want, you can do the right thing by the bigger picture. But I’m telling you now, this isn’t over until every fucker has paid their due. This isn’t politics anymore—this is personal.”
“Christopher…”
“My daughter won’t be some fucking sacrifice for the better good. And if you choose to stand in my way, I’ll hold you just as accountable as every single person that had a personal hand in taking her from me.”
“If you continue being reckless, I can’t protect you.” His face softens as he takes a step back.
“I don’t want your protection. I’m not your client.”
“You’re my son! It’s my job!”
“Yeah, well, it’s my job to get my family the dues they deserve.” He’s still looking at this all wrong. “It’s too late to protect them.”
He doesn’t reply, because he knows this is the only thing I can do to make things as right as they can ever be again. Because in spite of him being the older and wiser man, I’m the one that’s lost the one thing he holds dear. His family.
“I don’t have anything else to lose. This…it doesn’t matter anymore. You want me to be a leader. I can’t be that person if I cower away and let this go. I can’t let either of you take care of this. This is on me. It’s my responsibility.” I meet Benedict’s gaze with mine. “It’s my duty as a husband, even if your daughter never comes back.”
She will. I’ll make sure of it.
“She’s lost, Christopher,” Dad sighs, his eyes soft, filled with pity. “She’s trying to come to terms with her grief.”
“I know Arabella. She’ll be back.” Benedict nods to Dad. They share another look, and this time I can’t make out if it’s pity or if it’s some kind of shared knowledge.
I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, this is no longer their business.
“We’re done here.” Standing, I round back to my chair. “You can see yourselves out.”
“Don’t touch the Russian,” Benedict says as he heads for the door.
“He touched my wife.”
“If you touch him, neither of you will live to tell the tale. There will be no justice for anyone.” Stopping at the door, he looks back at me. “And I want it just as much as you do.”
“Stop fighting me, then.”
“We’re not fighting you, Christopher.” Dad moves for the door just as another knock sounds. “There’s always a bigger picture. You’re just too close to see it.”
Benedict opens the door, and as Julian walks in, he pauses, searching between the three of us. His face pales, and I know exactly what’s going through his mind.
