Chapter 21 Duke
Duke
Ipour a finger of whiskey into each glass, knowing I’m being watched.
“The general consensus is the crash was a warning,” Rory says, accepting his drink awkwardly with his left hand.
His right remains in a sling, his cuts are still healing and the bruising on his face has deepened since yesterday.
I hate to think how much worse it could have been despite Katarina’s assurances.
“A warning that wasn’t directed at him,” Calder clarifies, scrutinizing my face for a reaction. “And since you’re the one who raced off, it’s safe to assume you understood the message it was meant to convey. Care to share?”
I circle back to my desk. “I left so I could speak to Max about improving security, that’s all.”
“Did you speak to Katarina too?” he asks, then answers for me. “Let me guess, she knew about Rory’s accident before it happened.”
Even though I’m not wearing a tie, my unbuttoned collar feels tight and I have to resist tugging it.
“I don’t care what threats the Bratva make,” Rory says when I fail to give an answer.
“We can deal with it as long as we know what we’re up against. Ash and I had a long talk.
Katarina’s used up all the chances we’ve given her.
It’s time to call off the engagement. We just need to agree the timing so we can prepare for the fallout. ”
I’m pretty sure we couldn’t prepare for how hard Vasili would hit.
They don’t know about Fitz, and my reason for not telling them still stands.
It would start a war. “Believe it or not, Katarina and I know what we’re doing,” I insist. “It’s taken a while, but we’re working as a team now.
” Even as I say it, I’m not sure I believe it, but she’s still the best chance I have of getting Fitz back safely.
“So whatever you’ve agreed with Ash, undo it. For my sake.”
Rory’s drink is halfway to his mouth. “Duke…”
“I know Katarina is a pain in the ass,” I say before he can. “She’s volatile and she can be downright dangerous…”
“Wow, you’re really selling her appeal,” Calder interrupts.
“It’s learned behavior. It’s how she survived twenty years of being starved of love and affection, but despite that, she’s against everything Vasili stands for.
She helped the Griffins save one of their own,” I remind them.
“She needs people like us to show her what compassion and common decency look like.”
“Christ, you’re not thinking of marrying her for real, are you?”
I shake my head at Rory. “You’re the one who got banged in the head yesterday, not me,” I clarify. “And on that note, go the fuck home. You’re supposed to be taking a few days off to recuperate. And take him with you. You know he’s allergic to too much daylight.”
“Hey, I stayed at the house last night and was in bed at a respectable hour,” Calder argues. He swirls his whiskey in his glass. “After a long chat with Meri.”
Suddenly, I’m in no rush to get rid of him. “How is she?”
“Confused. Conflicted. Still grieving.”
“I told her about the fox.”
“She said,” he replies.
Calder’s being unusually reticent which can’t be good. “She still hates me then.” It’s the only conclusion I can reach.
My brother shrugs. “Give her time.”
I rub my hand over my knitted brow. “Should I try talking to her again?”
“Duke, maybe you should deal with one family drama at a time,” Rory suggests. “If anyone looks like they’ve been up all night, it’s you.”
“Says the man with a smashed-up face.”
“Precisely,” Rory counters.
“Maybe Grace needs to give you some TLC,” Calder suggests, gaining the use of his tongue again. “Or is the sweet, redeemable Katarina Barkov still laying down the law on how much time you spend with her?”
“I hear Grace has relocated to the DeVere head office,” Rory adds. “Apparently, she doesn’t want to work in this building. And, in unrelated news, Noah is asking why you sent the good-looking and very charming Oliver Chambers all the way to Alaska on a wild goose chase.”
Calder snorts a laugh. “That’s one way to deal with the competition.”
I shrug. He’s not wrong. I consider asking Rory if Noah mentioned if Grace was OK, but I’m just relieved she showed up today.
“Don’t let that one get away,” Rory says.
For her to get away, first I’d need to have hold of her.
And damn, I wish she was in my arms just one more time.
I close my eyes and take a breath, and fuck me…
The fates must hear my silent plea because I hear Grace’s voice floating through from the main office.
My heart is already pounding as the door opens and she appears.
I absorb every detail, from Grace’s flushed cheeks to the way her fingers fidget with the door handle.
Her navy-blue silk blouse has a high neckline and long sleeves, her dark grey pencil skirt fits to just above her knees.
Her bare legs are on show, and her pumps are low-heeled and practical.
It’s the standard uniform of a professional and bears no resemblance to the outfits she was wearing last week to drive me crazy.
If she’s making a point of not dressing for my torture, it’s failing. I am tortured. I don’t care what she wears, I’ll always want to rip her clothes off. I’ll always want her. Always.
Her stricken features as she pulls her gaze from me to my brothers can mean only one thing. This is the ending I’ve been dreading, and she doesn’t want to do it in front of an audience. Fuck. I’m not ready to let her go, but I know deep down in my breaking heart, it’s the right thing to do.