Chapter 18
UNDER CONTROL
JACOB
Apart from the few staff members bustling around and bodyguards at every door, the restaurant is empty.
Quinn Daniels sits at the bar instead of a table, as expected. We aren’t here for a meal. I’m barely here for a conversation, but there are some things that can’t be said over the phone when someone at Sigma House is always listening.
When I reach the barstool beside Quinn, a glass of scotch slides across the bar before I have to order it. “You always did have a soft spot for this place.”
“Hence why I bought it.” Quinn grins in way of greeting, holding his glass up for me to tap mine against it.
Glass clinks, and I take a sip, which is smooth all the way down. “Never could get you off this barstool.”
“I remember a time when the same could be said about you.” He pushes his dark hair off his forehead.
“Amen.” I take another sip.
This bar might as well be my church. It’s the closest haven of peace for a man like me when the shadow of the cross will do nothing but judge. There isn’t enough prayer to wash my soul clean, anyway. Another reason I stopped.
Quinn sits in silence for a moment while we share a drink.
It’s been years since we met face-to-face.
I’ve had my differences with the Sigma House Council after I refused to sit at the table beside them, but after Declan’s coup, Quinn is the last one standing.
The sole council member to come out clean, so to speak.
“Been a while since you’ve been back to Bristal,” Quinn says over the rim of his glass.
“I was here six weeks ago checking in on my brother.” Along with my investment, but I don’t say that part.
He hums. “Your brother isn’t quite as composed as you are. He’s gaining quite a reputation.”
“So I’ve heard.” I snicker to myself. “Not that it matters, given his particular skill set. He’ll do well even if people hate him.”
Quinn breathes out a laugh, nodding in agreement. “How is LA treating you?”
“It’s fine.”
“Just fine?” He hitches an eyebrow. “I assume mediocre pussy and a grueling teaching schedule aren’t enough to keep you away.”
I shrug, taking another sip.
“The great Interrogator…” Quinn swirls his drink around. “Destined to run the House. Instead, he barely graces us with his presence because his life in LA is fine. Anyone else would have eaten a bullet already. That’s quite a long leash your birthright offers you.”
“Careful.” I turn to face him. “You’re starting to sound jealous. And here I thought this was a meeting between friends.”
“We were that once, weren’t we? Now, I don’t know where you stand.” He takes a drink, resting his elbows on the bar and staring at the light reflecting on the stained-glass pattern behind the liquor bottles.
“I think the better question is, where do you stand, Quinn? Are you here to try and talk me into taking the seat or to challenge me for it?” I glance around.
Staff has thinned so only security is in the bar now.
“Challenge you? Word on the street is that you don’t want it. That’s why you left, right? Or have you changed your mind now that everything is a fucking mess?”
It’s a good question. One I’m still debating, but I try not to let that show.
I didn’t want to be the Council president when it was first offered to me years ago, and I certainly shouldn’t want it now. Not when the House has fallen into chaos and someone needs to redraw the line.
Not when I’m so close to finally getting my hands on Gideon Lancaster.
And yet, that’s the very reason I’m even considering it.
For her.
If the Council is the hand that moves the chess pieces, then becoming one of them is the only way to control the game. If I don’t accept that role, who will? And what will that mean for Patience?
I’m not the first person to consider using her against her family, and I won’t be the last.
“My reasons aren’t up for discussion” is all I offer in explanation.
“You have something you’re trying to protect?” Quinn guesses; it’s the downside of him knowing me for too many years. “I didn’t realize you were keeping secrets. But I guess I now understand why you’ve been in LA.”
I ignore that. “When I make a decision, you’ll know it.”
“You don’t just get to decide because Declan wants you in the position to further his interests. You turned it down once years ago, so now it goes to a vote. Who says you’ll win?” He eyes his men across the room. “You left. Your loyalty is running thin here.”
“Is it?” I smirk, glancing at Quinn’s men.
They’re watching us, waiting for an order.
And Quinn is arrogant enough to think that order will come from him.
Which is why I feel the need to remind him that it doesn’t matter how long I’ve been gone.
These men are an extension of the House—not him.
And I am the House, whether I’ve accepted it or not.
I glance around the room and nod once. At that, all the men turn their backs on our conversation, giving us privacy. Quinn’s eyes widen, and color drains from his cheeks.
“Power is an interesting thing, Quinn. Men chase it with money, ego, influence. But do you know what works better than any of that?”
He swallows hard, shaking his head.
“Respect.” I take a sip of my drink, looking out at the room.
“That can’t be bought or bargained. That is earned, and it’s the reason my family’s name has continued to hold the highest position in Sigma House since the House first expanded outside of Bristal.
It’s also why I can reclaim my role at any moment I choose.
While you and the others worry yourselves with menial power and political control, my bloodline has only ever cared about one thing—the House.
The whole. We’ve been hated for it, and we’ve been revered for it—depending on what side of the fence you’re on.
But it is a fact. So you can ramble about a vote all night, but we both know it’s irrelevant.
” Lifting my chin, I raise my voice. “Turn.”
All the men in the room turn back around to face us at that simple order. They likely heard the entire conversation in this small room. Having them look away wasn’t about privacy; it was to make a statement.
Quinn swallows hard, setting his drink on the bar. “Why are you here then?”
“Don’t worry. If I wanted a bullet in your head, you’d already be halfway dismembered in the kitchen.
” I spin to face the bar once more, and he follows suit.
“I’m here because, like you said, we were friends once.
I’d like to think the loyalty we shared on these stools still stands. Pissing contest aside.”
“Of course.” Quinn nods. “What do you need from me?”
“Information.”
“Just give me a name.”
“Patience Lancaster.”
“Gideon’s daughter?” He chuckles. “Rumor is you already have her in LA to piss off Gideon. What else could you ask for?”
My jaw tightens, and my gaze drifts.
“I see.” Quinn snickers. “You’re planning to push the family harder than just hanging her over his head, aren’t you?”
That was the plan, now… I don’t know what I’m doing.
“I thought Gideon came out clean in this mess?” Quinn’s eyebrows pinch. “Was he hiding something?”
“It’s between me and him.”
“Got it.” He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, knowing better than to keep pushing. “It might be tough getting the information you’re looking for. Gideon keeps his family close.”
“As evidenced by the fact that he has someone watching her in LA,” I point out, irritated just thinking about it. Patience doesn’t know her father’s men are watching her for the summer, but I don’t miss anything. “There’s a reason they call you the Seeker.”
He grins. “And there’s a reason they call you the Interrogator.”
“Cheers to that.” We clink glasses and share a drink as a notification sounds from my phone.
The man I have watching Patience while I’m at the restaurant indicates she is heading to the airport a few minutes early, which means things didn’t go well at her parents’ house.
I’m not surprised, but it doesn’t sit well. Especially when the second message comes through, containing a picture of her sitting, gripping the steering wheel with tears running down her cheeks.
It’s one thing for her parents to irritate her, but the fact that she’s upset has any other thought evaporating.
Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I lift from my seat.
“Leaving so soon?” Quinn asks.
A practiced smile crosses my face; indifference is an art, and I’m well-versed. “I was going to meet with my brother next, but that will have to wait until next time. I have business to attend to.”
“I’ll work on that information.” Quinn stands, shaking my hand. “Are you sure everything is okay? It seems like something’s bothering you all of a sudden.”
“Nothing I don’t have under control.”