Chapter 2 #2
“You told me you wanted me at the gala because you knew something was going to happen,” I growl in a low voice.
“Yes.”
No denial. No deflection. Just that single word, delivered like it means nothing.
“But it was more than that, wasn’t it? You knew Francesco was the target.”
“I had reliable intelligence that an attempt would be made on his life tonight. Yes.”
I stare at him, trying to find some semblance of humanity in his face. Some flicker of guilt or regret.
There’s nothing.
“You let it happen.” My voice shakes with pent-up fury. “You knew someone was going to try to kill Francesco DiMicheli, and you just fucking stood there and watched it happen. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I did what I needed to. I ensured his daughter survived. That was the critical element.”
“The critical—” My throat is so tight, I can barely draw in a breath. “A man is in a coma with a bullet in his spine because you needed to trigger a contract?”
“No, a man is in a coma because he made enemies. I simply positioned our family to benefit from the outcome.”
I ball my fingers into tight fists. I want to crack him in the fucking jaw. I want to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze until that smug-ass look is wiped off his face.
“You’re fucking sadistic, you know that?”
“I’m a realist.” He doesn’t even flinch. “Sentiment is a weakness the Russians will exploit. I don’t have that luxury. Neither do you.”
“I’m not part of this. I left three years ago. I built my own life—”
“You built nothing.” His voice ices over. “That security firm of yours? I send you clients. I keep competitors from getting jobs so your firm can take them. I made sure your background checks came back clean when we both know they shouldn’t have.”
My spine stiffens.
“Everything you have, I gave you. Every client. Every contract. Every illusion of independence.” He steps closer, his eyes glowing with malice. “You think you left this family? You never left, Lochlan. I just let you play pretend for a while.”
Rage claws up the sides of my throat. Three years of thinking I’d built something of my own, something separate from him and his empire and his endless manipulations.
All of it is a lie.
“I’m not doing it,” I say. “I’m not marrying a stranger because you’re a greedy bastard. Find someone else to close the deal.”
“This isn’t optional.”
“The hell it isn’t. Let Ronan do it. He’s been waiting his whole life for a power grab like this.”
“I have my own plans for Ronan. And besides, he’s not right for this job. He’d try to dominate her, and she’d eviscerate him. Adriana DiMicheli requires someone who can match her. Someone strong she can’t break. And I know you know that already.”
“And you think that’s me?”
“You’re the only one of my sons with the temperament to go toe to toe with her.” His lips lift into a nasty smile. “You don’t need to win every argument. You don’t need to control everyone in the room. You could actually make this work.”
“I don’t want to make it work. I want nothing to do with any of this. Or you.”
“What you want is irrelevant.” He straightens his cuffs.
“This alliance benefits both of our families. The DiMichelis get protection while Francesco recovers. We get access to their political connections, their legitimate business fronts, their infrastructure, and territories. Together, we’re untouchable.
Apart, we’re vulnerable. Targets for the Russians. ”
“We?”
“The Kozlovs have been pushing into our territory for a long time. The bratva is making moves on the docks by the harbor. Half our allies are waiting to see which way the wind blows before they commit to anything.” He pauses. “We need this alliance as much as the DiMichelis do. Maybe more.”
I didn’t know any of that. I’ve been out of the family business for three years. I don’t keep track of territory disputes, enemy families, and shifting alliances anymore.
And I’d like to keep it that way.
“Come up with another plan to protect yourself from the Kozlovs,” I say. “One that doesn’t involve pawning me off to a woman who didn’t ask for any of this.”
“There is no other way.” His patience frays. His brows knit together, the lines between his eyes deepening. “The contract exists. Francesco signed it. The terms are clear.”
“Then tear it up. Tell them you’ve changed your mind. Tell them—”
“I don’t change my mind, Lochlan. You know that.” He steps closer, and his voice drops. It’s softer now, but that doesn’t fool me. Not anymore. “However, since you seem determined to be difficult, let me make this very simple.”
“Don’t—”
“Cillian’s nightclub. The liquor license comes up for renewal next month. It would be a shame if there were complications.”
He fucking wouldn’t.
“Wolfe has been doing some interesting digital work lately. He’s breeched security systems and broken a lot of laws, things federal agencies would be very interested to know about. One anonymous tip would end him.”
The vein in my throat throbs, blood pounding between my temples.