Chapter Two #2
With a sigh, I rise to my feet and glance at Katia. “I have other things to attend to. See to it that our guest gets plenty of attention.”
Katia peels off her leather jacket and smiles. “With pleasure.”
“We can’t give you what you want,” Noah calls out to my retreating back. “How will London feel about all this?”
I ignore him and hurry up the stairs, pausing at the top to look over at Oliver.
After we leave the basement, Oliver hangs his head over the nearest plant and retches. He uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, and his face is devoid of color. “Does it have to be quite so painful?”
I shrug. “Not if they cooperate. I’m not unreasonable. I’ve given them many chances.”
Oliver clears his throat. “Maybe they had a good reason to do what they did.”
“That’s why I give them a chance to come clean first,” I reply coldly. “I can be merciful, but when it comes to betrayal, you’ve got one chance to come clean. After that, what happens is on you.”
I give Oliver a meaningful look, but he doesn’t meet my gaze.
He follows me to the library and lingers in the doorway.
When I venture in, he mumbles an excuse under his breath, and I watch him hurry down the hallway, round the corner, and disappear.
I drift closer to the fire and sink into the armchair, watching the red and orange flames as they dance, casting long shadows across the wall.
Without lifting my gaze from the flames, I reach for the decanter on the cart and pour myself a generous amount of whiskey.
I swirl the amber liquid and continue staring at the flames.
The drink is bitter as it trickles down my throat. On my second sip, I lift my gaze to the portrait over the fireplace and take in my mom’s face, her bright eyes weighing on me.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I mutter darkly. “I’m doing the best I can.”
But I can’t save Oliver from himself.
And it’s only a matter of time before I can no longer brush his betrayal under the rug.
I don’t like this any more than he does.
“You should be careful. Wouldn’t want anything happening to the Payne heir.”
I rise to my feet and lift the glass to my lips. “Is that you talking, or our father?”
“We both know the answer to that.” Mathew materializes in front of me and stops a few feet away, clad all in black. “But we all have our roles to play.”
“He’s never going to give you what you want,” I shoot back. “You’re wasting your time playing this game.”
“What’s the matter, brother? Have recent events made you question your mortality? Even the great Mason Payne isn’t untouchable.”
I lower my glass and turn so I’m looking at Mathew. “If he wanted to put you in charge, he would’ve, and you know it.”
Mathew’s expression darkens, but he doesn’t look at me.
I study my twin in the dim lighting, and my stomach gives an odd little lurch as the realization that I don’t recognize the man he’s turned into dawns on me. “He keeps you around because you do what he wants without question, but even the master’s favorite guard dog is still a guard dog.”
Mathew’s eyes are blazing. “I’d watch myself, brother, or you might find yourself on the receiving end of another little accident. Only this time you might not be so lucky.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re not going to lay a finger on me.”
Mathew takes a step in my direction and bares his teeth at me. “Won’t I? Don’t underestimate me, Mason.”
“Don’t forget yourself, Mathew,” I warn. “We both know that even with an injury, I can take you on.”
There are too many witnesses for Mathew to pin it on anyone else.
It’s one thing for our father to stoke the flames of dissent, but Mathew knows that making a play for the power seat without Jack’s consent is as good as signing his death warrant.
My twin is ruthless, ambitious, and cunning in his pursuit of power.
There are very few lines he won’t cross to get what he wants, but he isn’t stupid.
Mathew takes out his knife and takes a step in my direction. “Care to test that theory?”
I set down my drink and look at him. “Go ahead, then.”
Neither of us moves, and the air in the room grows thick. After what feels like an eternity, Carlisle slips into the library and heads for me. He whispers something into my ear, and I don’t take my eyes off Mathew. Once Carlisle steps away, I down my drink and clear my throat.
“We’ve been summoned.”
Mathew slips his knife back into place and nods.
We slip out of the library and into the semi-lit hallway.
No amount of fury or resentment will change the truth.
In his office, our father is standing on the other side of his long mahogany desk with a drink in one hand.
The flames in the fireplace leap and dance as we step in, and the man sitting opposite Jack’s desk rises.
The man’s broad shoulders fill out the tight shirt, and I catch a glimpse of a familiar snake tattoo peeking out from underneath his shirt.
I look over at Mathew, whose jaw tightens as he moves closer to me.
“The Everetts want to come back to the table,” Jack begins with a vague hand gesture in the man’s direction. “They’ve sent an emissary to plead their case.”
I don’t look away. “They’re too chicken shit to come here themselves.”
Fucking cowards.
I shouldn’t expect more, especially when I’m sure they’ve helped plan the attack on my life.
Given our years of partnership, they should at least have had the decency to face me, not send a nameless henchman to do their dirty work.
I have half a mind to send the man back in a body bag, but I know it won’t do me any good.
“Speak,” Jack Payne commands. He sits down behind his desk. The man’s hand unconsciously moves to his side, where a gun usually is, and some of the air deflates from him. He glances from Mathew to me and back again.
“I’ve been asked to bring new terms to the table.”
I give him a bored look and shift, so the man can see the gun in the waistband of my pants. “This should be interesting. You’ve got a lot of balls showing up here alone; I’ll give you that.”
Some of the color drains from the man’s face, but he holds himself still. “The Everetts are willing to relinquish some of the warehouses and docks they’ve seized.”
“Our warehouses and our docks,” I respond with barely restrained anger. “And what do they expect in exchange?”
The man pauses, and a muscle works in his jaw. “They want the bounty on Michael Everett and Lance Fitzpatrick’s heads removed.”
I throw my head back and laugh, then lower my head and point my gun at the man’s temple. “I have a counteroffer. I send them your head on a silver platter. I think that should get the point across.”
The man throws up his hands and backs away until the desk is digging into his back. “I’m just the messenger.”
He goes as white as a sheet as I approach, looking like he wants to bolt. “Consider this our answer.”
Before the man can respond, I yank him forward.
When I throw him out of the office, he barely catches himself before his face hits the floor.
Then he scrambles to his feet and darts off.
Mathew joins me in the doorway, his careful and cool mask of detachment in place.
We look back at our father, who is standing next to the window with a thoughtful expression.
“We’re done letting our enemies dictate the terms,” Jack announces without looking at us. “Mathew, I think we’ve given their messenger enough of a head start, don’t you?”
Mathew’s face spreads into a slow smile. “Yes.”
The look on Jack’s face almost makes me pity the man. “Good. Take care of it.”
Mathew nods and hurries out the door.
I wait for my father to acknowledge me.
His gaze slides down to my stomach and stays on my bandage. His voice lacks its usual edge when he talks again. “Make sure you put your best men on this. I don’t want them to fuck anything up.”
“I’ll see to it.”
“The bounty was a good idea,” Jack adds before looking away again. He smiles. “It’s time we brought the game to them.”
I stand up straighter. “I’ll triple the bounty on their heads.”
Jack eyes me over the rim of the glass.
I turn to leave, but his voice stops me cold in my tracks. “Include another bounty. Ten times the amount for whoever brings me our inside man alive. I want the bastard to pay.”
Anxious, I give my father a quick nod. I don’t stop walking until I reach the bedroom and lean against the door. I stand there, trying to think past my racing heart as I realize what I’m going to have to do.
Damn it, Oliver. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?