22. Bay
TWENTY-TWO
bay
“Hello, sister. I’m surprised to see you here.” My eyes float over to Ramsey as he babies a clear glass of what could be vodka or tequila and wearing a nonchalant contentedness on his face.
However, his tone is almost mocking. And his eyes aren’t as entirely bright as Torin’s, a dark shade of golden, and a hidden look at how brutal his reputation is.
“Oh, you know,” I drone with my own glass of liquor, whiskey, keeping my attention locked on the psycho brother. “Daddy wanted me here.”
I agreed to Emilio’s invitation for his Monte Carlo night on the hunch that I was going to accomplish taking Emilio Wildes down with anything I might find or hear here. It could be a huge waste of time; I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to find, but I’m left with no other choice but to keep him happy so he leaves my family alone.
So, at a rich-ass party in a huge mansion and an infinity pool that hangs over a small cliff overlooking the ocean, I’m dressed in a black, flowy dress that slits up to my upper thigh, and waiting for a good time to leave.
Meanwhile, Ramsey isn’t easily angered by my affirmed acceptance of being Emilio’s daughter. In fact, his lips curl into an easy, but sinister smile.
“It’s good that you are,” Ramsey assures me. “He enjoys you being around, even though he’d never say that out loud.”
I really don’t care.
Ramsey leans up against the metal rail overlooking the ocean below, his black-on-black suit ensemble keeping with his reputation as a Wildes—dangerous, powerful, and not someone to cross, but keep his features softened. “So, what’s your plan? Hang out with him for a few weeks, then dump him to the wayside.” I open my mouth to immediately deny that fact, but he cuts me off. “I can’t say that I blame you. Shit, I wouldn’t have even cared if he came up to me with the Holy Grail and an army at my feet. When you’ve lived a life that you’ve known as yours, it’s a hard pill to swallow that it never really was.”
Dude knows nothing about me, nor what I’m feeling.
“So do you have daddy issues or has Emilio treated you pretty well?”
Ramsey takes a sip of his drink and slowly looks over the landscape ahead. “Emilio has given Torin and I everything we ever could’ve wanted and more. However, he lacks personal space and follow-through.”
“Excuse me?”
“You, for instance. We both know you don’t want to be here. That you couldn’t give a shit about having a relationship with him. And, like I said, I don’t blame you. You hate him for what people around you have said about him. He cares about what you think.” He raises his shoulders. “I don’t.”
“So the whole ratting out Penn Northcott thing does nothing for you, huh?”
My stepbrother doesn’t even spare me a glance when he says, “You mean when he ratted out a traitor? No, Bay, I sleep just fine with that little fact in my back pocket. It doesn’t even come to the surface unless someone’s bent out of shape about it.” His eyes slide over to mine. “Penn put a hit on every single one of us, kids and all. I don’t owe him anything but a bullet in his head.”
“I guess we can agree to disagree, then. However, you can stop the whole nice act. I’m a threat to what you believed you were being handed down, so you don’t even need to stand here and pretend to give me details over things I’ll never take your word on.”
He perks a brow at me, expertly gluing his stoic facade on. “You’re not going to take anything I don’t willingly give up or offer you. If you tried, I’d kill you. We clear on that?”
“What does that include exactly?”
Ramsey rolls his dark brown eyes. “God, if you’re talking about this fuckin’ Titan seat, I’ll throw a bow on it for you. Ask Emilio, my brother…never once did I mention wanting it.”
“Doesn’t sound smart.”
“How so?”
“I am South Shore, after all.”
“For now.” He pauses a pregnant moment, the crashing of the waves filling in the background noise. “Until Levi Wallace decides he wants to kill you.”
Well, I think our plan is working.
“My brother…I think he likes you,” Ramsey continues. “In fact, I think he’s stupid that he likes you. Especially when you’re already showing me how fickle you can be with loyalty to a town that just dumped you on your ass and zero countenance to fucking him over in the long run.”
“I think you and I are more alike than I want to admit.”
We’re not. The only thing we share is how paranoid we are to the other.
Ramsey sighs and slices his eyes to the waterfront. “You should know that I’m not a very forgiving person. I’m straight forward”—he steers his clear focus back to me—“so, whatever you have going on in your head…” He purposely leaves it open for interpretation for me to reply to.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” I offer. “I’m not looking to be involved in some fucked-up gang.”
“So, the guy you were talking to earlier, who got you the drink you’re holding, doesn’t hold a candle to your interest?”
I scrunch up my face. “What?”
“That was a spy.” His voice is void of any emotion that I can’t tell if he’s serious or just fucking with me. “No offense, but you’re gonna suck at this if you plan on becoming part of the business here.”
“I just said I didn’t want to be part of the Forsaken Fucks.”
Ramsey just watches me with the same look he’s been wearing for the last two minutes. “Cute.” He turns his body to face the party and steers his concentration back to something. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I play mine?”
“By all means, do you.”
Ramsey lifts his suited arm and at the end of it is a silver Beretta that glistens exquisitely against the sun.
I don’t even get to think or act, back off or tell him to put it down. The sound that resonates off it cracking through my semi-calm persona while a disturbing sense of dread filling through the crack.
My curiosity wins out over the reality of what Ramsey may have done and splayed heedlessly on the beige patio bricks is the man who offered the drink in my hand over ten minutes ago.
Dead .
Warnings and neon red flags wave in my face as I maneuver back to the future of what I’m walking into and trying to annihilate.
“Are you fucking serious? Was that really necessary?” I solicit already thinking of calling this whole fucking thing off with Emilio and this psycho in front of me. My heart is currently on a sprint through my chest, and I think I just suffered a mild heart attack. “At a fucking party?”
“It was to prove a point.” He gets rid of his weapon, tucking it back behind his suit jacket, unfazed by shooting a man in cold blood while everyone has either cleared the patio or kept a close eye on the man that I’m semi-related to. “Welcome to the family. I’ll come grab you in a bit and we’ll gamble. I know you could use the money since you’re not going to take a dime from Emilio.” He snaps his fingers, and the sound actually makes me flinch. “Oh, and I heard that Matteo De Leon has been in your past. He’s here, and that was to show him how much I’m not fucking around with protecting you if you decided to stay. I’ve always wanted a sister.”
I blink at him as he gives me, what I think, is a playful wink because he’s still psycho.
His lips coil, and I see a little of Torin in them, the boy-next-door vibes that fall off him. However, Ramsey is a bonafide killer without a conscience.
And I think I may have just found another problem.
He’s watching me too closely.