Chapter Four
Mason
I lift the glass to my lips and pause.
A few birds fly past outside, stopping to call out to each other. With a frown, I shove the window open. But even the fresh air and the smell of freshly cut grass aren’t enough to ease the pounding in my skull or the ache in my chest.
Not when I keep seeing Oliver’s face every time I close my eyes.
It’s been ten days since Carlisle brought me the pictures, and every night since, I have woken in a cold sweat with my heart racing as I struggle to shake off the image of Oliver. Even the sight of London sleeping soundly next to me isn’t enough to chase away the demons.
How can it when I’m no closer to figuring out how to handle this?
You need to figure out what you’re going to do and do it fast. It’s only a matter of time before your father finds out.
No amount of pleading or bargaining will save Oliver’s life if our father gets to him before I do, especially not with the bounty on his head.
Sooner or later, someone will realize that Carlisle is tailing Oliver for the wrong reasons, and I need to have my story straight before then. In the meantime, each evening after dinner, Carlisle and I hole up in the study, and he gives me a full report on my younger brother’s activities.
I have no idea if the show I put on with Ryder and Noah scared some sense into him, or if he’s waiting for the heat to die down, but other than his usual routine, Oliver is keeping his head down.
In the mornings, he goes to breakfast at the same diner.
His afternoons are spent in museums or libraries, and in the evenings, he visits the same bar and sits in a booth by the back, downing drink after drink.
None of it makes sense, and I’m running out of ideas to get him to confess.
A loud bang in the distance interrupts my train of thought. Sighing, I lift the glass to my lips and take a few sips while I wait for the drink to calm me. When it doesn’t do anything, I pour another drink and swirl the amber liquid.
For the umpteenth time, I wonder if I need to bring Mathew into the fold.
My twin and I rarely see eye to eye, but I have to believe that if he knew how much trouble Oliver was in, Mathew would help.
Or he’ll sell you both out for a chance to curry favor with your father. Don’t put it past him.
Where Mathew is concerned, there’s no telling what he’s going to do.
I can’t put Oliver’s fate in Mathew’s hands, not when it could mean life or death for our brother.
So, what’s your plan? Have Carlisle follow him forever? You’re not stupid enough to think that’s going to work.
After rummaging through one of the drawers, I input the code for the false bottom and wait for it to open.
Then I set the pictures down on my desk and sink into the chair.
I pull it closer and drum my fingers against the desk while I study the pictures.
I’ve memorized all the details, everything from the tight set of Oliver’s lips to the glint in my enemies’ eyes, and I still can’t wrap my head around it.
Tormenting myself will only make things worse.
A familiar swell of rage and frustration rises within me, and it takes everything to push it back down. In the dying afternoon light, I look at the pictures again and work through the possibilities, including having Oliver taken to one of our warehouses abroad and kept there under lock and key.
I’m not crazy about the idea of allowing his disloyalty to go unpunished, but he’s still my brother, and I can’t hurt him.
Not directly, at least.
He needs to understand the seriousness of what he’s done, so you can’t ship him off and hope he gets it. What if he still causes trouble wherever he is?
My headache is pounding steadily when I reach out to put the pictures away. The clock clicks into place, and the door to the study flies open and slams into the wall behind it. Katia appears, dressed in her usual head-to-toe black, her dark eyes narrowed.
She leans over the desk with her hands clenched into fists at her side. “We need to talk.”
I lean back against the chair and cross my legs. “It seems you’ve forgotten your manners.”
Katia’s expression darkens. “You really want to talk about manners now? After what I just discovered?”
I stare at her.
Katia leans back and shakes her head. “For as long as I’ve served the family and you, it’s been drilled into me how important it is to be loyal.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Loyalty to the family,” Katia replies. “The Paynes above all else.”
Slowly, I rise to my feet. “Don’t waste my fucking time, Katia. Say what you want to say.”
Katia draws herself up to her full height. “Carlisle is following Oliver.”
“You know he’s keeping an eye on him for safety purposes.”
“Bullshit.”
I step out from behind the, stopping inches from her. “You’re lucky my father isn’t here to make you pay for that statement.”
“Why is Carlisle really following him?”
I fold my arms over my chest. “That’s not your concern. Your job is whatever the fuck I tell you it is, and right now, it’s to mind your damn business.”
“Eliminating threats to the Paynes is part of my job—”
“Not where Oliver is concerned,” I interrupt. “I know you have a soft spot for my brother. Carlisle has been tasked with his security.”
Katia’s eyes blaze with frustration. “I’m perfectly capable of doing my job. What happened with London won’t happen with Oliver.”
“So you’ve said,” I respond. “Need I remind you of what was at stake the last time you screwed up? Oliver is my brother.”
Betrayal or not, he’s still a Payne.
I can’t afford to have Katia’s fondness get in the way of what needs to be done.
Carlisle is the only one I trust to report back to me without sugarcoating the truth, and the less my assassin knows, the better.
“If Carlisle is following him, you must think they’ll target him,” Katia says. Her hands curl tighter, and she takes a step in my direction. “What about Olivia?”
“Security detail isn’t your job where my siblings are concerned. You forget yourself, Katia. You and I might have had an understanding in the past, but the terms have changed.”
Katia growls. “I’m supposed to keep this family safe.”
I draw myself up to my full height, but she doesn’t cower. “Then do your fucking job instead of standing here arguing with me about details that don’t concern you.”
“But Oliver—”
My hand closes around Katia’s wrist. “Do as you’re fucking told, or I’ll find myself a new assassin.”
Katia searches my face, color rising in her neck and cheeks.
I grip her wrist tighter and wait for her to meet my gaze. “Are we clear?”
With a scowl, Katia removes my fingers, one by one, and takes a few steps back. She gives me a long, measured look before moving back.
“Well?”
Katia’s eyes are still tight. “Understood, sir.”
I step back behind the desk and lower myself onto the chair. “Good. You’re dismissed.”
Katia lingers for another moment before she turns on her heels and leaves the office.
A few moments later, I pull my empty glass closer and debate whether to call Katia back in when a figure darkens my doorway. I glance up as Mathew steps in, and I see the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants.
“What do you want?”
“I saw Katia storm out of here. Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise.”
I frown at Mathew. “I’m starting to think you like stalking me because you have nothing better to do. Jack still freezing you out?”
Mathew stops in front of the desk. “Our father will eventually see reason, especially with how costly the war is turning out to be.”
Mathew isn’t wrong, no matter how much I want him to be.
I’m suddenly ashamed to realize that I wouldn’t mind being replaced with Mathew as long as London’s safety—and mine—was guaranteed.
But I’m not gullible enough to believe anyone will just let me ride off into the sunset with the woman of my dreams.
As long as you’re alive, you’re a threat to Mathew, because he knows that even with Jack’s approval, some of the factions won’t accept him. You’ve spent years cultivating relationships and making sure you’re on good footing with everyone, and Mathew will ruin all of that.
My twin doesn’t have the finesse or patience to ensure long-standing relationships.
I’ve seen it firsthand.
Leaving with London and starting over is a pipe dream I’ll never see come to fruition, and the sooner I can let go of the thought, the better it’ll be for everyone involved.
But damn if I don’t sometimes wonder how much easier and better life would be.
What would you do, anyway? This is the only life you’ve ever known.
“I think you like to hear yourself talk,” I tell Mathew. “You’re wasting your breath. I’m not interested.”
Mathew’s smile widens. “What makes you think I care? I’m enjoying watching you piss off the people around you. Sooner or later, even your whores will get tired. First Katia, and then London. It’s only a matter of time.”
I round the desk and grab Mathew by the scruff of his neck. “Stay the hell away from London.”
There’s a gleam in Mathew’s eyes. “She’s that good, huh? You’ve been holding out on me, brother. I can’t wait to have a taste of her.”
I slam Mathew against the nearest wall and punch him in the gut. “If you touch one hair on her head, I’ll end you.”
Mathew looks at me. “I’d like to see you try.”
I swing again, but Mathew sidesteps inches from contact. He writhes out of my grasp, and I spin in time to avoid a kick to the leg. I turn to face my brother again with a dull roar in my ears. My heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my chest.
I’ve been waiting for this, craving a chance to do something, and Mathew has given me the perfect excuse.
We circle each other for a while, and I pause, feeling the rage growing within me.
Mathew growls and launches himself at my middle, and I hit the wall behind me, sending a sharp jab of pain up my back.
I shove him off before he can land another hit, and I kick his legs out from under him.
Before I can pin him beneath me, he jumps to his feet and spits out a mouthful of blood.