Chapter 6 Eian
EIAN
“I can see you were right,” I tell Sean when I finally look up from the reports. He stands up straighter, his thirty-two years barely showing on his baby face, and that’s the main reason assholes think he’s inexperienced, but he’s one of my most trusted men.
I know it couldn’t have been easy to come to me with this, so I know he made damn sure he was right before talking to me.
The fact that my men hesitate to come to me with small issues is by design.
I have a lot of shit to do on any given day, and I make sure the men and women I have in charge of the casinos and brothels talk to every employee so they go to them with smaller issues.
Sean has been in charge of our biggest casino in Jersey for about seven years.
Yeah, he was young when I realized what a machine his big brain is, and I haven’t regretted that decision once.
Today is the first time he’s ever brought a problem to me, and he’s grown our profit margins by a lot over the years.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell him as I stand.
I believe in giving credit where it’s due, and if I could give him a bigger job, to help me deal with the day to day, I would.
But there’s no way one man can manage two casinos, so instead .
. . “After we deal with this, you’re going to have to find and train three new dealers.
Check with Chen. Besides that, I want you to pick two men, train them for as long as you think is necessary, and I’ll put them in charge of the underground casino on Fifty-Third and the one in Williamsburg. ”
His blue eyes open wide before he can tamp down his reaction.
“Thanks, Boss,” he mumbles. I don’t begrudge him that. I don’t give out compliments easily, but he’s earned it, so I tell him.
“You’ve earned it. Now, bring the three dealers in here. Make it sound like a bonus.”
“Yes sir.” He nods once, and then he’s out of there. Blake and Richee come in when he leaves and close the door behind them. Richee works right under Blake in security, and he’s even bigger than Blake, built like a tank, and loyal to a fault.
“Get ready,” I murmur, then nod at the couch so they’ll sit.
Less than five minutes later, Sean walks in behind the three stupid motherfuckers who thought they could steal from me. Sean thinks they’re all in on it together and that’s why it took him so long to catch them.
“Good evening,” I tell them, speaking mildly because I don’t have any need to shout here.
They all say a version of hey, then stand at attention. I can see the greed in their eyes, and I’m about to make them pay for it.
“You were all aware before today that you work for me, weren’t you?” I tilt my head a little, trying to be as non-threatening as possible.
“Yes,” they all answer.
“And how much do I pay you?”
Now they hesitate, and the one on the right, who I guess is the leader of this deadly fucking scheme, clears his throat. After sending a questioning look to Sean, which he answers with a serious nod, he turns back to me.
“Forty-three hundred a month, sir.”
Look at that, the thief has some manners.
“And you’re aware you represent the very bottom of my organization?”
“Sir?” another one of the idiots asks.
“I doubt you’d get a better salary anywhere else as a bottom feeder,” I muse. “And yet you felt the need to steal from me.”
“No, we didn’t.” The one in the middle looks rightfully terrified. “This has to be some kind of mistake—”
“I don’t make mistakes,” Sean interrupts him, and I let them stew in the sudden silence for a few seconds.
“Kneel,” I sneer at them, and when they don’t do as I say right away, Richee and Blake step behind them and kick them in the back of their knees. “That’s better.”
The buzzing of my phone really ruins the mood, but I know better than to ignore a call, so I flip it over on the desk to see who it is. I bite down hard to stop myself from showing any reaction, but I feel the drum of my heartbeat in my fucking neck.
Finley never calls me. He’s Bran’s security, so I turn away from the three kneeling men and answer the call.
“Where are you?” That’s the most important question, because once I know that, I’ll know who is closest and can go help—
“At your house, Boss. Sorry.” He has enough brain cells to figure out what a call from him would do to my fucking heart.
“I just thought I’d tell you that Bran got a call after I picked him up from the library and he was very .
. . agitated.” The way he hesitates there isn’t usual for him, not at all.
“He told me to bring him here right away, and since that’s not his usual routine, I thought I’d better tell you. ”
“Yeah, okay.” I let out a sigh and have to massage my forehead for a moment. Bran isn’t one to become agitated like Finley said, he’s always so calm.
I turn back to the room and realize this really isn’t worth my time.
“I’ll be there in twenty. Don’t fucking leave.”
“Yes, Boss.”
I slide my phone into my pocket and grab my glock from my back, then shoot the three imbeciles in their foreheads. They stole almost half a million in the past year, so it’s less than they deserved, but I’ve got more important shit to deal with.
“Richee, clean this up and take them to the forge. Sean, you’ll replace them.”
“Yes sir.” He nods.
“Blake, let’s go.”
No one asks any questions, they know better, but I feel Blake’s curiosity practically pouring out of his skin when we’re finally on the road.
“Finley called.” I put him out of his misery. “Bran asked him to take him home, and he said I should come see what’s up.”
“That’s unusual,” he hums from the front of the car. I don’t bother saying anything back, and just try to keep my mind in check on our way to the house.
It works until I walk into the foyer and find Finley next to the closed door of my office.
“He’s in there.” He nods at it. I march in and slam the door behind me. The startled look on Bran’s face would normally make me feel bad, but I don’t have the energy for that right now.
“What the hell is going on?” My words come out low and dark. I’m ready to go to war, to fucking burn—
“Nan called me.”
My thoughts come to a screeching halt.
“So?” What could be so worrying about my aunt calling him that has him running home?
“She’s coming to dinner tomorrow,” he says, the words coming out faster than normal.
“Yeah, I know, what about it?”
“Didn’t you tell me that Colby’s coming here today?
That he’s going to be staying here?” I did, but the urgency in his tone makes me go over it again.
“He can’t see her, Dad,” he snaps, and yeah, he sounds more scared than angry at how fucking stupid I am for not realizing this before.
“If he sees her, if he hears you calling her Nan, he’s gonna put two and two together.
We know Duffy and Ma never read the papers, especially the society pages, so of course they never see her picture there whenever she goes to one of those galas with my uncle and cousins.
They don’t give a shit about a billionaire’s mother, but Colby’s gotta know who she is. ”
“Fuck,” I mumble, trying to figure out a way out of this.
“I really doubt he’s ready to keep a secret like this for you—for us.
Harrison Crawford having any ties to the mob would be the news of the fucking century, but if it gets out that he’s your cousin?
” Bran’s screeching by the time he gets to the end, and I don’t fucking blame him, but I am glad my office is soundproof because it means he can get all this fear out in any way he needs without anyone else hearing him.
He’s not saying anything I don’t already know, anything I shouldn’t have already thought of, but I understand his panic, because I didn’t think of this.
No one in the family, not even Rory, knows that Harry’s my cousin, and up until four years ago even Bran didn’t know. He thought—like everyone else still does—that Nan was simply the aunt Da hid from the world for her own safety, which is a half truth. I don’t even think they know her actual name.
When Nan came to America looking for her brother and she found him, she also stumbled into Theodore Crawford and they fell in love recklessly fast. From then on, Uncle Theodore and Da did everything in their power to erase the connection between Da and Nan.
The Crawfords are New York royalty, have been for centuries.
They’re respectable citizens—whatever the fuck that means—and have more influence than anyone cares to admit.
Their empire would be ruined if our familial relationship came to light, and that’s why Harry and I only told our children when they were adults, when they could deal with a secret of this magnitude.
I can’t put them in danger just because I have this . . . need. Hell, it’s more than a need, it’s as inevitable as two attracting magnets. No matter what stands between them, they still find a way to be as close as possible.
“Dad.” Bran’s soft whisper brings me back to my office. “I think you need to be very clear—at the very least with yourself—on how many secrets you’re willing to let him into, because from everything you’ve told me, he can sniff one out like a freaking bloodhound.”
I nod a couple of times to show him I hear him.
Harry’s husband, Tristan, found out about me by accident the very first day they were together, but I don’t know when Harry would’ve told him if it hadn’t happened that way. I have no fucking idea how to navigate this, and I already have the giant task of somehow wooing Colby to deal with.
I doubt he knows I even have a son.
That thought lights up my brain with a fraction of a plan, and I know it’s the only correct first step.
“You should meet him tonight,” I mumble, unable to say anything else for now.
“Yeah?” I have to smile at the sudden and bright excitement on his face.
I nod again. “Stay for dinner. I’ll call Nan tonight or go see her in the morning. Don’t worry about any of it.”
“Okay, Dad.” With a trust that will never stop leaving me breathless, he accepts my words and hugs me quickly before stepping out of the office.
I’m sure he’ll go bother Celly about whatever she’s cooking for tonight.
She’s been uncharacteristically excited about our guests since I told her last week, and declared she’d make sure Colby and Maggie’s rooms were perfect.
I fall back onto the tan leather couch and try to think.
I’ll never stop hating the fact that I have to keep my family a secret, that I have to be extra vigilant when I go see them, that I have to climb through a fucking window to visit.
I hate even more that Bran has to do the same, but .
. . I can’t really wish things were different, because if they were, Harry wouldn’t exist, at least not as the man I admire and love so deeply.
Theo and Iris wouldn’t either, and along with Bran, they’re the only people I think are absolutely perfect the way they are.
A sigh I wouldn’t let any of my men see leaves me. There’s no changing this situation, ever.
Harry and I will have to deal with this for the rest of our lives, and after, Theo, Iris, and Bran will have to do it too. Though things should be easier then because Bran isn’t taking over for me.
The phone on my desk rings, and with another sigh I go to pick up. I can’t even have five fucking minutes to sulk for fuck’s sake.
“What?” I bark out the question.
“Mac and the twins are here. We’re checking the car for trackers or bugs now.” Blake’s voice sounds hesitant.
“All right,” I tell him, cooling my temper. “I’ll be right out.” There’s a lot of ground to cover with Colby, and a family dinner where he gets to meet my son is surely going to be a good thing for whatever image he has of me.
Right?