Chapter 23
LOCHLAN
The air changes when she walks into the penthouse after work. My eyebrows knit together. Something’s definitely wrong.
I'm on the couch going through security reports. She doesn't say a word. Doesn't look at me. Just drops her bag on the counter and stands there with her back to me, spine rigid, shoulders locked up tight like she’s ready for a fight.
Reaper lifts his head and lets out a whimper. Even the dog can tell shit's about to go sideways.
“Hey.” I put the laptop on the coffee table and stand up. “What's up? Did something happen?”
She turns around slowly, and fuck. The look on her face makes my gut clench. Her eyes blaze with a mix of anger and hurt.
“When were you going to tell me?” Her voice is low and controlled, which is somehow worse than if she were screaming at me.
I rake a hand through my hair and take a few cautious steps toward her. “Tell you what?”
“About the Russians. About Wolfe intercepting their communications.” She crosses her arms over her chest, putting a wall between us. “About another attack being planned against my family.”
What the fuck?
“Adriana, what are you talking about? I don't know anything about—”
“Your father came to see me today.” She practically spits the words out. “He showed up at my office to deliver the news personally. And he made damn sure I knew that he considered telling you first, but decided I should hear it directly since I'm supposedly in charge.”
Rage bubbles in my chest. That son of a bitch. Of course fucking Eamon would pull a stunt like this. Of course he’d go behind my back and use information I didn't even have to mess with her head.
“Look, I swear to God, I had no idea about any of this. If Wolfe found something, he didn't tell me.” I inch closer. “Whatever my father said to you, whatever game he's playing, I'm not part of it.”
“How am I supposed to believe that?” Her voice cracks, and Christ, that sound guts me. “How do I know you haven't been reporting back to him this whole time? Telling him everything about my business, my decisions, my… weaknesses?”
I stare at her. She actually thinks I would do that? After everything that happened between us?
“You think I've been spying on you for my fucking father?” I try to keep the rough edge from my words, but I can’t because how the fuck could she think I’d have gone behind her back like that?
My gut clenches with the knowledge that because of my father, I’m already carrying too many secrets since this whole contract business came up, and it haunts me every day.
“After everything we've been through? After last night?”
She flinches at the mention of last night, and a flicker of guilt shadows her tense expression. But she still doesn't back down.
“I don't know what to think anymore.” She presses her fingers to her temples.
“I lost a forty-million-dollar account today because I've been too distracted.
The Russians are planning another attack, and I had to hear about it from your father instead of from you.
And then that arrogant asshole stood in my office and told me I'm not capable of handling my responsibilities. That maybe you two should step in and take over.” Sparks of anger shoot from her hardened gaze, her face flushed a deep red.
My hands curl into fists at my sides. Every word she says makes me want to put them through a wall. Or through my father's face.
“He said what?”
“You heard me.” Her jaw tenses. “He said this isn't a part-time job. That if I can't dedicate the effort and energy, you should both step in and take the burden off my shoulders.”
I'm going to fucking kill him.
“Adriana, listen to me.” I struggle to keep my voice steady even though I'm vibrating with fury.
“Whatever my father told you, whatever doubts he planted in your head, they're lies. I am not working with him against you. I would never do that. The whole reason I agreed to this marriage was to protect the people I love from him, not to help him hurt someone else. Especially you.”
Her expression wavers for just a second. The woman who fell asleep in my arms last night is still in there somewhere, behind her self-constructed blockade of anger and disappointment.
“Then why didn't you tell me about the Russian communications?”
“Because I didn't fucking know.” I fist my hair and pace in front of the kitchen island.
“I haven't talked to Wolfe in three days.
I haven't talked to my father since the wedding.
If there's intel about another attack, he kept it from me on purpose so he could use it to get to you. That's how he operates. He plays people against each other and messes with their heads so they don’t even know which end is up anymore.”
She stares at me for a long moment, searching my face for any sign of deceit. I let her look. I've got nothing to hide.
“I want to believe you,” she finally says, her voice deflated and beaten down. “But I don't know if I can trust my own judgment right now. Everything feels like it's spinning out of control.”
“Trust me to help you get back that control.” I take a chance and close the distance between us, then take her hands.
“I'm on your side. I've been on your side since the beginning.
My father is a manipulative bastard who will say and do anything to get what he wants, and right now what he wants is to make you doubt yourself. Don't let him win.”
She looks down at our hands, her hair falling around her face. I know exactly how she feels in this moment and how much she despises being in this position. But I can’t force her to trust me. She has to want to, to believe that I only want the best for her.
“I need some time to think,” she whispers.
The words hit like a slap. But pushing her right now would only make things worse.
“Okay.” I drop her hands and step back. “I get it. Take whatever time you need. I've got something I need to take care of anyway.”
Her head snaps up. “Like what?”
“A security job I need to check on.” The lie tastes like shit on my tongue, but I can't tell her the truth. If she knew I was about to go after my father, she'd either try to stop me or want to come with me. And I have to handle this alone. “I won't be long.”
She nods slowly, but she’s hesitant, like she doesn’t know if she should believe me. Great. Now she's got even more reason not to trust me.
“We'll talk when I get back,” I say. “Really talk. About all of it.”
I grab my keys and head for the door. Reaper whines from his bed but I don't stop.
I've got a snake to deal with.
I drive to my father's house, a fortress in Beacon Hill. The place itself screams old money elegance, but there’s a hell of a lot of rot underneath the surface. Perfect for the man who lives there.
I don't bother knocking. I use my key and shove through the front door hard enough to rattle the brass hinges. The security guy rounds a corner with his gun out. He backs off when he sees it's me.
“Where is he?” I growl.
“Office.” He jerks his thumb toward the back of the house. “But he's got—”
“Don’t fucking care.” I move down the hallway before the guard can finish his sentence, my shoes pounding against the hardwood, fury fueling every step.
I slam open the office door. My father stands behind his massive oak desk with a highball glass of whiskey in hand, not at all shocked that I’m standing in his domain.
And sitting across from him is Ronan.
My oldest brother looks up when I storm inside, his eyes narrowing. There’s a glass of whiskey on the desk in front of him along with a stack of papers, clearly in the middle of some kind of meeting. I wonder whose lives they’re planning to incinerate next.
“Lochlan.” My father's voice is smooth, like he’s not the least bit shocked to see me. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Cut the shit.” I stride toward his desk. “You went to Adriana's office today. You told her she wasn't capable of doing her job. You implied that I should step in and take over.”
Eamon takes a sip of whiskey like this is a casual chat.
“I expressed some concerns about her ability to juggle multiple responsibilities. Given the circumstances, I thought it was warranted. The Russians have attacked twice since she’s taken over, so they obviously feel that she’s vulnerable.
Maybe this is all too much for her.” He stares at me.
“You can’t blame me for being concerned. ”
“Give me a fucking break. You’re not concerned about her or her family,” I bite out. “You showed up in her office to deliberately undermine her. You used information you kept from me to manipulate her. You're trying to destroy her confidence so she'll hand over control to you.”
“I'm only trying to protect our interests, which you’d understand if you hadn’t cut ties with our family organization.
His eyes ice over, the mask slipping just enough to show what's underneath.
“The DiMicheli organization is in chaos. The Russians are circling. And the woman running things is more concerned with her consulting firm than with the people depending on her leadership.”
“That's bullshit and you know it.” I slam my palm on his desk hard enough to make the ice in the glasses jump. “Adriana has done everything right. She shut down Riccardo. She handled the situation at Moretti's. She's earned the respect of the capos. The only person undermining her is you.”
“She's a liability.” Ronan's voice cuts in, cold and flat. “She doesn't belong in this world—hell, even by her own admission she never wanted to be in this world—and everyone can see it except you.”
I turn to face my brother. “Who the fuck are you to make judgments about her?”
“Give me a fucking break, Lochlan.” Ronan shoots up from his chair and walks toward me so we’re toe to toe, close enough for me to grab his arm and snap it in two.
“She's playing mafia boss while her actual business falls apart. Dad's right to be concerned. Someone needs to step up and take control before the whole thing collapses. And in case you forgot, we’re locked into their organization through this sham marriage of yours. So if you don’t step aside to protect our organization, then maybe someone takes you out…” He pauses, a nasty smirk lifting his lips. “Of the way.”
“Oh, yeah? Someone like you?” I let out a harsh laugh. “Is that what this is about? You're still pissed that Dad chose me for this marriage instead of you, so now you're helping him sabotage my wife?”
“I'm helping him protect the family.” Ronan takes a step closer. “Something you seem to have forgotten how to do since you started thinking with your dick.”
Before I can stop myself, I shove him backward with both hands. He stumbles into his chair, his eyes widening.
“Don't talk about her like that,” I say.
Ronan catches himself and his eyes flash with pent-up fury. Years of shit between us is finally about to boil over.
“Or what?” He shoves me back, harder. “You'll hit me? Go ahead, little brother. Show Dad exactly how out of control you've gotten over some woman you barely know.”
“I know she’s a better leader than you’d ever be,” I snarl.
“People actually respect her, and she doesn’t have to kiss their asses to earn it, either.
Can you say the same for yourself? Or do you get what you think is respect because your head is so far up Dad’s ass that you can see what he had for dinner last night? ”
“Boys.” Eamon's voice slices through the thick tension clouding the room. “That's enough.”
But we don’t move. We just stand there, glaring at each other, locked in a standoff with years of resentment crackling between us.
“Lochlan, I understand you're upset,” my father continues, calm as ever. “But everything I've done has been for the good of this family. The alliance with the DiMichelis is crucial. If Adriana can't handle her responsibilities, we need to be prepared to step in. I stand by that.”
“She can handle them just fine.” I force myself to take a step back from Ronan before one of us throws an actual punch. “What she can't handle is you going behind my back and poisoning her against me. If you have concerns about the alliance, you bring them to me. Not to her.”
“And if I disagree with how things are being run?”
I level him with a glare. “It’s not your organization, so you don’t get a say in how the DiMicheli family operates. It’s not a fucking democracy.”
“I think you should leave now.” Ronan's voice is tight. “Before you say something you can’t take back.”
“The only thing I regret is ever thinking you might be different from him,” I snap back at my brother.
Fuck, I don't even recognize Ronan anymore. He was always a prick, but ever since Mom died, he’s turned into a fucking clone of our father.
Cold, calculating, and completely void of humanity.
“You're just like him. Power-hungry and willing to destroy anyone who gets in your way.”
He grits his teeth. “Get out.”
I stalk toward the door, grab the handle, and twist it open. Then I look back at them.
“Stay away from my wife. Both of you. If either of you goes near her again without me knowing, you'll regret it. That's not a threat.”
My father's laughter follows me down the hall and it takes everything in me not to go back and pound them both into oblivion.
I get into my car and collapse against the seat with a deep sigh.
My father is actively working to undermine Adriana. My brother is helping him. And my wife doesn't know if she can trust me anymore.
Everything I've been trying to build is falling apart.
I pull out my phone, scroll to Adriana’s name, and stare at the screen. I should call her and tell her what happened, prove I'm on her side.
But how the hell would that conversation even go?
I lied and said I needed to handle something with my business, then came here to confront my fucked-up family who is threatening her and calling her a liability?
And that’s supposed to make things better for her?
Finding out that my family is even more fucked up than she already knew?
I toss my phone on the seat and start the car.
Wolfe is the one I need to call first. I have to find out about those Russian communications he intercepted. If my father has intel about an attack, I need to have it too.
Before anyone else gets hurt.