Chapter 34
I f someone had asked me a month ago to leave Abigail alone with Cole, I would have broken bones rather than do so. And then I would have thrown that fucker in the cellar before chaining Abigail to our bed.
Now, as much as I wish I didn’t have to make yet another trip to London, I trust I’ve left her in the best hands, considering Alex and I are tied up in this Table meeting that is well overdue.
As we pull up to the Four Points headquarters, we’re greeted with a pat down after surrendering our weapons. Then we’re led into the conference room. Tipping my chin in greeting at Jonathan and Seamus, I take a seat opposite them with Alex at my side. It’s custom to bring either your second or consigliere to this if you can’t spare your second and as much as I could easily have brought Peter along, I didn’t. For a few reasons, but mostly because he’s looking more suspicious by the day. I’m not buying the whole ‘I didn’t know I had two sisters’ bullshit any more.
The sooner I have reason to interrogate him without starting a war I’m not equipped to handle, the better but for now the less he knows about my dealings with Jonathan the better. Leaving him under the impression I didn’t trust Alex to hold the fort and leaving Cole under strict instructions not to let anyone in the house, including Peter, was the best-case scenario. But still. The sooner I get back, the better.
Next to arrive are Don Salvatore and his son, Nico. With their slicked-back hair and three-piece pinstripe suits, they look every inch the old-school mafia figures they are, if rumours are to be believed. Knowing Matt is screwing around on his marker with them burns a hole in my brain as I offer them both a stiff handshake before they take their seats to my left. Maxim Ivanov and his consigliere and cousin, Dimitri Ivanov, follow shortly after, exchanging gruff greetings and even gruffer handshakes before claiming the seats directly to Seamus’s left. Jianyu Li and Jun Weng, as always, are the last to arrive, sliding into their seats with little more than a minuscule chin tilt in Jonathan’s direction.
“Right then. The first order of business is to address the elephant in the room—Logan Graham has replaced Angus,” Jonathan announces. “And after doing so, he proposed a merger with me as part of his arranged marriage to one of my capo’s daughters.”
“And what exactly does that mean for us?” Maxim growls, his dark brows heavy slashes across his forehead.
“Nothing. It means we don’t have a piece of shit in charge or a war hanging over our heads,” I drawl, my gaze sweeping over the room to catch every reaction.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Maxim retorts before Don Salvatore interjects.
“Now as for the second matter of business—what’s the current prognosis on shutting down these auctions?” Salvatore looks like he’s chewing glass, his disgust palpable. If there’s one thing that unites everyone in this room, it’s a shared hatred for the flesh trade. The fact my father ran auctions under their noses remains a slap in the face to us all.
“We’re trying to shut them down. Angus was providing girls for them, so without the… product, I doubt they’ll go forward. If they do, we plan to infiltrate and shut it down for good,” Jonathan says, his lip curling as he spits out the word "product." Around the table, dark expressions make it clear no one here condones what my father did.
“How that piece of shit had the nerve to do that under our noses…” Jianyu looks ready to resurrect my father just to kill him again, but he reins in his fury, shaking his head before continuing. “And what about the rumours he had a rat helping him?”
“I’m in the process of revamping the entire Clan,” I say, leaning forward. “Another reason for my proposed merger. The place is full of men more interested in profit than morality.”
“I’m not talking about your pathetic excuse of a Clan,” Jianyu snaps. “I’m talking about rumours of outside help.”
“Outside help?” Jonathan echoes, frowning.
“Jesus Christ, yes, outside help. Namely, tip-offs from an insider feeding him information about our movements and suspicions,” Jianyu explains, his eyes narrowing as he scans the table.
“The fuck you on about, Li? Sniff too much of that coke you’re trying to sell?” Maxim snorts, clearly unimpressed.
Jianyu sneers but presses on, “My spies tell me Angus had someone providing him with accurate information. Whoever it was, they rarely, if ever, got it wrong.”
“Meaning they had to be an insider,” Nico drawls, his gaze sweeping the table as though assessing each of us for guilt.
“Fucking hell,” Seamus mutters before the room erupts in chaos. Voices overlap as accusations fly, everyone rushing to defend themselves while pointing fingers at others.
Across the table, Alex is smirking. With a sigh, I tip my chin towards him, and he hops onto the table, puts two fingers in his mouth, and lets out a whistle loud enough to make ears ring. The room falls silent instantly.
“Enough!” Jonathan roars, slamming his fists onto the table as he rises to his feet. “Alex, get the fuck down, or I’ll have you kicked out. Now, regarding this supposed rat, fighting won’t solve anything. Each of us needs to evaluate our own operations and weed out potential threats. Then we reconvene. Is there any other business on today’s agenda?”
Don Salvatore raises a territory dispute with one of Maxim’s offshoots, and the room devolves into negotiations. Trivial shit, if you ask me, but necessary with so many egos and armies at play.
As the meeting winds down, plans are set to investigate the auctions and keep peace within territories. My thoughts drift to Abigail. Is she in bed thinking about me? The sooner I get home, the better.
“Any word from home?” Alex asks as we follow Jonathan and Seamus to the penthouse. Since we were already here for the Table meeting, we’re using the time to review the Helen and Freya situation, but I’m second-guessing if this was the right call.
“No. Last I heard from Cole, they were watching some show together after dinner,” I reply as we step into the lift. Silence settles as Jonathan taps out texts, and the lift climbs to the top floor.
The sooner I’m home, the sooner I can show Abigail what I’ve been working on and help put her fears to rest. Her infertility doesn’t matter to me except that it matters to her. I love her for who she is, not for what she can offer me. If she wants a baby, we’ll find a way, whether naturally or through adoption. There’s no rush—she’s young, and we have time.
In Jonathan’s office, Owen and Brennan are waiting, surrounded by laptops and piles of paper. It’s clear they’ve been busy while we were downstairs. Rolling up my sleeves, I sit down.
“With Jonathan’s help, we got the hardcopy of Helen’s qualifications from his office, and they match the digital records. Contacting the school was a dead end—they claim not to keep records that long, and even if they did, they wouldn’t release them,” Owen explains.
“Tell me we hacked their system,” I ask Brennan, knowing his skills.
“Of course. But here’s where it gets strange. Her listed address matches Peter and Freya’s.”
“Meaning…” The words feel like acid leaving my mouth. “She’s likely my mum’s sister. My aunt.”
The revelation feels like everything snapping into place—and simultaneously creating a hundred new questions. If that’s true, Peter had to have known. The idea of his lies sets my teeth on edge.
“We need answers—fast,” Jonathan rasps, looking pale behind his desk. This isn’t just Clan politics anymore; it’s personal.
Plans are made for Brennan to dig deeper and interrogate Peter as soon as we’re back at the compound. With that, we head to the airport for the last flight home. Alex had called me pussy-whipped for wanting to fly in and out on the same day, but now the urgency burns hotter. If I’ve left Abigail vulnerable, I’ll never forgive myself.
If one hair on her head is harmed, the streets will run red.