Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Lance steps between us. “It’s not a threat. No one wants to start a war.”
Luckily for Michael, I’m in a generous mood, and as much as I dislike Lance, I know he has a point.
Dropping a few bodies won’t solve the more immediate problem.
I want to wipe the smug look off Michael Everett’s face, but I know I can’t go after him directly.
It doesn’t mean you can’t get your point across in other ways.
“How’s that sister of yours doing, Michael?” I fix my gaze on him, a faint smile hovering on my lips. “She works at one of your marinas, doesn’t she? One of the hottest restaurants in town, or so I’m told.”
A muscle ticks in Michael’s jaw. “Stay the hell away from her.”
“What about that girlfriend of yours, Lance? What was her name again?”
Lance’s face darkens in fury. “What the hell are you pulling, Mason? We’re not the only ones who have people we care about. Word on the street is you’ve got yourself a new whore.”
I have my gun pointed at him before he finishes his thought. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
Lance raises an eyebrow. “You’re not the only one who can make threats.”
I take a menacing step forward and bare my teeth. “I’ve got men and women everywhere. At the marina. At the wharves. At the trucking company. One word from me, and I’ll rain hell down on all of you.”
“There’s no way for you to do that without getting caught in the crosshairs,” Michael points out. “Even you’re not reckless enough to do that.”
They’re right.
I’m not reckless, but I’m also not naive.
They’re baiting me, and I can’t figure out why.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” I shoot back. “You don’t know me well enough to know what I will or will not do.”
Michael takes a step in my direction and folds his arms over his chest. “I know you don’t want to do anything stupid.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s exactly what I should do since stupidity seems to be the order of the day.”
Dumbing myself down to their level might be the only way for me to get my point across.
Lance throws up his arms. “We all need to calm down. We’re not going to reach a resolution today, so why don’t we all just take a beat and figure this out somewhere else?”
I lower the gun and scoff. “You should listen to your girlfriend, Michael. This sniveling little rat might know what he’s talking about.”
At the very least, he isn’t as hot-headed as the rest of us.
There might be hope for Lance Fitzpatrick after all, and I wonder if that’s why they sent him to deal with this mess.
Michael and I are nowhere near seeing eye to eye, nor are we likely to.
Lance mutters something, and I pull back and land a punch that leaves him wheezing with his hands on his knees. “I was just starting to think there might be hope for you yet. Pity.”
Lance throws his head to the side and spits out a mouthful of blood. “We’re not the enemy, Mason.”
I wave my gun between them and appreciate the unease.
My mind is still racing when Michael’s phone rings. A heartbeat later, he pulls Lance aside, and the two of them gesture and whisper furiously. Then they glance at me.
A few moments later my phone buzzes, and I look at the text from my father.
Without missing a beat, I holster my gun and offer them both a small smile. “It’s been a real fucking pleasure, as always. Give my regards to Kevin.”
“Kyle,” Michael corrects with a frown. “I doubt he’s going to take what you did lying down.”
“He can get in fucking line,” I reply. “This isn’t over.”
I stalk off without waiting for a response, some of the knots in my stomach easing when Katia and Carlisle fall in behind me.
I take long, even strides until I reach the car parked at the end of the dock, and my heart doesn’t stop pounding until I’m safely inside.
Katia gets into the back with me, and once Carlisle is in the passenger seat, the car peels away.
I pour a drink and eye Katia over the rim of the glass. “Fucking say it or stop looking at me like that.”
Katia raises an eyebrow. “Say what?”
I take a long sip of my drink. “I thought we agreed never to lie to each other.”
Katia blinks. “Who said anything about lying?”
I take another long sip, and it settles in the pit of my stomach, spreading warmth through me. “Exactly. Just spit it out.”
Katia exhales. “That wasn’t handled well.”
“No shit. I can’t believe they tried to go behind my back and broker a deal with someone else, as if I wasn’t going to find out—”
“I meant you didn’t handle it well,” Katia interrupted. “I’ve known you most of our lives, Mason, and I’ve never seen you act like that.”
I curl my fingers around the glass. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re the guy who likes to prepare. You go in knowing everything about the people in the room, and you usually have several plans in place,” Katia replies. “But the guy who was there today… I don’t know who that was.”
I set my glass on the table, causing some of the liquid to slosh over. “You have exactly one minute to walk it back.”
Katia remains unfazed. “Or what? You’ll shoot me?”
I lean forward so we’re inches away from each other. “Don’t forget who you work for. I might give you some leeway, but I’m still in charge.”
I don’t like so many people questioning me.
What the hell is happening?
“Act like it, then.” Katia lifts her chin. “The man I saw today wasn’t acting like the guy in charge. You were unprepared and sloppy, and you could’ve ruined what your family spent decades building—”
I have both hands around her throat before she can finish her sentence.
Who the hell does she think she is?
Her dark eyes widen, but her expression remains unmoved. “As you pointed out, you and I have always been honest with each other.”
“There’s honesty, and there’s fucking disrespect. Clearly, I’ve given you too much of a leash.” I squeeze a little, but Katia doesn’t react, and it infuriates me even more.
What right does she have to judge me?
She has no idea what kind of decisions I have to make or the sacrifices I’ve had to endure to get to where I am.
I haven’t poured blood, sweat, and tears into the empire to be questioned by my closest right hand.
Katia is supposed to serve and obey without question, and I don’t like her tone.
Or the unspoken implication behind it.
I ignore the voice in my head telling me I’ve brought this on myself.
In the fifteen years she’s been by your side, Katia has never once called your decisions into question. You’re just pissed because you know she’s right.
Goddamn it all to hell.
I need to figure out a way to punish her now, too, because so few things in life piss me off like being put under the microscope.
“Punish me, then,” Katia says, her voice dropping a little. “I’ll take whatever punishment you think is necessary.”
Fuck.
I know what she means when she looks at me with those dark, fathomless eyes.
Is this Katia’s way of getting back into my bed?
I grunt and remove my hands. “You don’t deserve to be punished.”
And I won’t give her the satisfaction, sexually or otherwise.
Katia offers a small smile. “You know you want to. You and I have known each other a long time, and I know she isn’t giving you what you want.”
My eyes narrow into slits. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t care if you’re fucking someone else,” Katia whispers, before she closes the space between us, giving me a generous view of her cleavage. “She can watch, or she can join. I don’t care. But you and I both know I’m the only one who can give you what you want.”
Our time together definitely brings light to it, but she has no idea how London satisfies me.
They may be different, and Katia has always been the one I’ve turned to in the past, but London has all my attention now.
There are things there Katia can’t fathom or compete with, even with her experience.
“I know you put on that little show for her as a lesson,” Katia continues, in the same thick voice. “But you also know I would’ve fucked you in front of her if you’d asked.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have asked.”
Katia places a hand on my thigh, and her fingers glide upward, slowly and tantalizingly. “You wouldn’t have had to.”
It’s how it’s always worked with us.
Weeks ago, I would’ve had her pinned against the leather seats of the car, and I would’ve been raging hard.
Now, all I can think about is London’s face etched with pleasure.
All I can hear is the sound of her soft moans, falling readily from her lips.
I want London’s fingers on my thighs and kneading my shoulder muscles, and I want her mouth to be inches from mine.
I raise an eyebrow. “You’re still willing to offer yourself to me even after I rejected you?”
I assumed she had more self-respect and pride.
Katia tilts her head and studies me. “It’s what I’m here for. What I’ve always been here for, whatever you need.”
I stare at her for a few seconds before I reach for my drink again, and I imagine myself taking what Katia is offering.
She knows how to satisfy me, so why should I deny myself?
London doesn’t own me, and I owe her nothing.
Not my time outside the bedroom and certainly not my loyalty.
Besides, fucking someone else might be just what you need to remind yourself of who you are, and what London means to you.
Except I know I’m walking a tightrope with my assassin, one I can’t afford to walk.
Realizing how deep the family has its hooks in Katia shouldn’t surprise me, but I’ve seen her strike men down for a lot less.
I’ve seen her lash out without blinking.
I’ve seen her give herself to me without question, without fail, and with abandon.
I’d prefer her anger over the measured look she’s giving me now.
I shouldn’t feel guilty that she still wants to serve me, but I do.
Even when I know I don’t owe her a damn thing.
What the hell is going on with you? Katia is right. You can’t afford to lose your edge, and if London is the reason, you need to nip this in the bud.
I can’t bring myself to cut her loose, not just yet.
I’m Mason fucking Payne. I can stop whenever I want, and I know what I was doing today.
I want Katia to be wrong.
She moves her fingers farther up my thigh, and when I don’t react, she inches closer, a familiar smile spreading. “Let me help you.”
I shift away from her and cross one leg over the other. “I don’t need your fucking help. What I need is for you to do your job, so I can do mine.”
Katia keeps her hand for a moment longer as if daring me to change my mind, but I don’t budge.
Slowly, she withdraws it, and we spend the rest of the ride back to the mansion in silence. Once we get to the main doors, Carlisle gets out first, and Katia follows soon after. Someone opens the door for me, and I stride inside, ignoring the blur of shapes and colors around me.
With single-minded determination, I walk until I reach the office.
There, I slam the door and pace the room.
I’m on my fourth drink when I receive another angry text from my father. Scowling, I switch off the ringer and throw the phone onto the brown leather couch in the corner. Then, I stroll over to the bar, one hand holding the glass, and the other curls into a fist at my side.
Katia isn’t wrong.
My father’s text kept me from doing something uncharacteristically stupid, but for the first time in a long time, I find myself questioning my decisions.
Even in the early days, I knew what needed to be done to get us far, and I’ve never hesitated.
I like knowing what to expect and being ten steps ahead of everyone in the room.
Today was reckless, and I don’t know if it was seeing Noah with London again or seeing the look on her face in the car on the way back that made something in me snap.
I don’t like this version of me she’s bringing to the surface.
What the hell is London doing to me?
And why can’t I seem to confine her role to the bedroom where it belongs?