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But the biggest shock of all had been discovering that I had a baby niece who was headed for the foster system. There had been no way in hell I was letting my niece, an innocent girl, get swallowed up by the system.
I’d pulled every string, and called in every favor, and eventually I brought that tiny bundle in a pink blanket home.
Fuck, Daisy had been so tiny. Her big blue eyes were the same shade as mine.
I hadn’t known a single thing about babies. I’d been fucking scared I’d drop her.
But she’d needed me. End of story.
Seven years later, she was the light of my damn life.
Daisy’s giggle drew me out of my memories. Beau leaned down, and I transferred her onto my shoulders.
“How was your job in Georgia?” Beau looked very much like the former mercenary and fighter he was. He was rugged, tattooed, and as tough as steel. I trusted him with my life. I trusted all of them.
“The ass—” I looked up at Daisy “—prick is going away for a long time.”
Reath twisted on a stool at the huge, marble island. “I heard he put up a fight when you cornered him.”
Reath was a few years younger than me. Unlike me, who remembered my parents, Reath didn’t. He’d been abandoned as a baby. He had a handsome face that we gave him hell for, brown skin, and short, black hair.
I wasn’t surprised that he already knew about my Georgia job. He’d spent several years in the CIA, doing shit he never talked about. He’d gone in cocky, and come out lethal, alert, and with parts of him far darker than before.
His company, Phoenix Security Services, did good work, and Reath kept his ear to the ground. He knew all the players in New Orleans, and further afield.
“Yeah, he put up a fight.” I smiled darkly. “I was more than happy to teach him a lesson.”
Reath nodded, the corner of his lips tipping up.
“Good. From what I heard on the news, the piece of trash deserved it.” This came from Kavner, who leaned against the counter, still wearing a suit, but at least he’d shed his jacket and tie. I couldn’t believe he was willing to wear ties at all.
“Yeah, the fucker deserves whatever hell he finds in prison.”
“Daddy, you owe a dollar for the swear jar.”
I scowled. Macy had colluded with Daisy on this fucking swear jar. Just the thought of my assistant had me feeling tense and unsettled.
She was getting under my skin, and I didn’t fucking like it.
“There is no swear jar.”
“Thereis,” Daisy insisted. “Macy’s helping me decorate it.”
I growled.
“Sorry we’re late.”
Dante appeared, with his arm around his woman, Mila.
Mila was smiling, her face flushed. Dante looked his usual self—dark hair, dressed in a black button-down shirt, black beard.
My gaze narrowed. He also looked very smug and satisfied. I didn’t need three guesses to know why the pair was late.
Mila had been on the run from some bad people. She’d overheard the wrong conversation at work, and it had almost cost her life. She’d ended up getting a job at Dante’s nightclub, Ember, in order to hide out. My brother had taken one look at her, and lost his mind.
He’d protected her, gotten her free of her troubles, and fallen in love. Mila was good for him. She made him happy.
“What’s for dinner?” Dante asked.
