Chapter Three
Mason
“Are you going to need backup?”
Katia stiffens and levels me with a look. “I can handle her.”
I down the rest of my drink. “At least she’ll keep you entertained.”
Katia mutters something unintelligible. I step out from behind the desk and stroll past her. In the doorway, I pause to spare her a glance over my shoulder. Katia turns to face me, and a long moment passes when neither of us says anything.
Her face softens. “It’s bad, isn’t it? The warehouse thing?”
“Not as bad as not knowing who the enemy is.”
Katia’s expression darkens. “I should be out there, hunting people down, and making them give up information. I’m more useful that way.”
I shake my head. “I need you here.”
“To protect her.” There is an undercurrent of anger in Katia’s voice. “She doesn’t even appreciate what you’re doing for her. Yesterday, she tried to get me to look the other way by telling me that I want to.”
“She wanted to get to her family.”
Katia’s eyes move steadily over my face. “I think you need to keep an eye on her and make sure you know where her loyalties lie.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you questioning her loyalty or her motives?”
“Both,” Katia replies without preamble. “You already know how I feel about this whole thing.”
“I’m aware,” I reply tightly. “You’re also aware of how important she is to me. I’m trusting you to keep her safe. Is that a problem?”
I know it’s selfish of me to force this on her, but other than Carlisle, she’s the only one I trust with London.
In the short amount of time I’ve known London, she’s come to mean a lot to me, and I can’t be fighting a war on the front lines while worrying about her.
Keeping her safe isn’t negotiable.
But if Katia can’t be the one to do that, I’ll find someone else who can.
Katia’s expression turns impassive again as she straightens her back. “I know how to do my job.”
I give her another meaningful look. “Good. Get it done then.”
With that, I spin on my heel and stride out of the office. My father is waiting by the front door in a crisp custom Armani suit, not a hair out of place. He glances up when he sees me, and his eyes move over me steadily, leaving a trail of unease in his wake.
He hasn’t stopped judging me since setting foot on the estate, and I know that’s not going to change anytime soon.
Between keeping an eye on my father’s men and keeping his ear to the ground to figure out what’s happening with our allies, Carlisle has his hands full.
I wonder if my father knows that having him here only makes things worse.
I shouldn’t add worrying about my father’s motives to my long list of things to do, but I also know I can’t turn my back on him for one second.
Father or not, Jack Payne won’t hesitate to take me down if I get in his way, and there are plenty of ways to make people suffer.
He doesn’t have to stick a knife in my heart to make me bleed.
Especially now that he’s seen me with London.
As soon as we get in the car, he slams the door shut and turns to me. “There are better uses for the assassin’s time.”
“Katia has other things to do.” I pause to pour myself a drink. “You don’t need to worry about her. We should discuss strategy.”
Jack drums his fingers against his thigh and looks out the window. “There is no strategy to discuss. The plan is clear. We make it clear that your lapse in judgment has no impact on our continued partnership, nor should it.”
I eye him over the rim of the glass and grip it tighter. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t refer to London as a lapse in judgment.”
He makes a vague hand gesture. “When it comes to the empire, certain decisions need to be made for the greater good.”
I take a long sip of the drink, and it burns a path down my throat. “They still need to be taught a lesson.”
Jack turns to me. “I have every intention of making sure they do, but we’re still going to the meeting to smooth some ruffled feathers. Better to have them in our corner.”
I take another sip and sit up straighter. “What are you planning?”
“That’s not your concern,” Jack replies coldly. “All you need to do is make sure to look apologetic for taking down the people at that abandoned house.”
I don’t like being kept in the dark, especially not where the empire is concerned, but I know better than to push.
Whatever punishment my father has for me, there are far worse things than sidelining me when it comes to business matters.
He’s toying with you. Taking charge of the meeting is child’s play compared to what he can do, and you know it.
Still, I’m relieved London isn’t tied up in a basement somewhere at his mercy.
I set the glass down with a little more force than necessary. “I will not apologize for protecting my own.”
Jack gives me a bored look. “We have nothing further to discuss.”
“We’re not done talking.”
He raps on the roof of the car, and it slides to a stop. The door opens, and he steps out. Then, I hurry after him, the protest dying on my lips when I see the group of men standing with their backs erect and guns bulging under their shirts.
What has my father agreed to?
I catch up to my father at the top of the stairs of the abandoned building, and he gives me a slow and meaningful look. Together, we step inside, our men sliding into place. Every nerve is heightened as a damp smell wafts up my nostrils and makes my stomach tighten.
The entryway is dark, and our footsteps are soundless against the carpet.
The lights flicker on, and I blink as the room shifts into focus, revealing an airy space with a high ceiling, big windows, and a wooden table in the center. I recognize some of the men in attendance, and my mind races.
Michael Everett and Lance Fitzpatrick are standing on the other side of the room, engaged in quiet conversation.
As if sensing my eyes on them, they glance up.
I don’t realize I’ve taken a step forward until my father puts a hand on my arm.
He leans sideways and pretends to brush lint off my shirt, his voice dangerously low. “Either keep yourself in check, or I’ll have someone do it for you.”
I tear my eyes from Michael’s face and look at my father. “You’re just going to let what he did to the warehouse stand? What happened to making our enemies pay?”
A muscle ticks in Jack’s jaw. “We have nothing on them, so unless you have the men to launch a war, I’d suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut.”
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right.
My father didn’t come out on top in a world as dangerous as ours by making baseless accusations and reckless decisions. While he might have operated in the shadows more in recent years, underneath the cool, composed exterior is a man who knows how to be slow, methodical, and precise.
And he will surgically remove me before allowing me to ruin everything he’s built.
Again, I remind myself that being his son won’t spare me from his wrath if I don’t keep my anger in check.
The last thing either of us needs is to be seen bickering in full view of our enemies.
It’s exactly why he’s making a power move like this here, where he knows I’m less likely to push back.
Conniving son of a bitch is showing our enemies he can bring me to heel.
It’s humiliating in all of the right ways, but I have to give him props.
There’s more than one way to strip a man of his defenses, and Jack is nothing if not creative.
At least he hasn’t chosen violence.
Another long moment passes before he leaves my side and goes to greet some of the people in attendance.
Someone pulls out a chair with a screech, and he offers them a bored look.
Then he sits down, and the air in the room changes.
Several pairs of eyes are on me as I join him at the table and avoid looking at Michael.
I’m determined not to let him get under my skin.
That’s probably what he’s hoping for. Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your shit in front of all these people. You know how hard it is to exhibit strength once they’ve caught a whiff of weakness.
I’ve worked too hard to be the weak link.
I school my features into careful neutrality as Michael pulls out a chair opposite me, and after a brief hesitation, Lance does the same. One by one, everyone sits, and the room quiets. Slowly, my father leans forward, and every eye in the room is on him as he clears his throat.
“I know you all know why we’re here.” His voice is even and controlled. “We’ve all been allies for a long time, and that partnership has served us well. Look how well we’re all doing.”
A murmur of agreement rises.
Jack links his fingers together and looks over the room slowly. “I know there have been some disagreements, but with everything happening, I wanted to remind you all of how much easier it is to work together.”
Another murmur rises.
Lance shoots me a look. My face gives nothing away until he begins to squirm. Eventually, he shifts and looks away, sweat breaking out on his forehead.
I’m going to make you bleed, you little rat. If you thought things were bad before, you haven’t even come close to what I’m capable of doing. Just wait until I can get my hands on you.
One way or another, Lance and Michael are going to find themselves alone with me, and by the time I’m done with them, they’re going to wish they’d stayed hidden.
“… the terms of our partnership have been in place for a while, but they are open to renegotiation under the right circumstances,” Jack finishes with another look around the room. “Let it not be said that we are unreasonable.”
Silence meets his statement.
Jack’s expression hardens as he pushes back his chair to stand. “Let me be perfectly clear that I will find out who was behind the attack on our warehouse and the incident with the girl, and I’ll make the person responsible wish for death.”
Behind closed doors, he might give me grief about London, but I know he won’t let anyone sense the tension in our ranks.
I don’t know whether to be relieved or worried.