Chapter 39
Zay
“They’re Arranging Their Own Funerals”
Ares handed me a glass as we sat on the deck at midnight.
The amber liquid caught the light before I took it.
He leaned back in his chair, lighting a cigar with the same calm focus he did everything else with.
“Your parents are wild as hell, bro.” He shook his head.
I took a slow sip.
“They expected me to lose my temper.”
“They expected you to bow down.”
I exhaled through my nose. “They’re used to control.”
Ares nodded slightly. “Your mother especially. She acts like she is your wife.”
The word mother sat in the air for a moment before I set my glass down.
“She’s not my mother. Remember, my mother is doing life for my weak ass dad,” I said calmly.
Ares didn’t correct me.
He never did.
That was one of the reasons I respected him.
He understood the difference between family and blood.
I looked down at the ocean, wind rolled across the terrace while the city lights flickered below us.
Finally, he spoke again.
“So,” he said casually. “Walk me through it.”
I leaned forward. “They still think they have the upper hand.”
“They do,” Ares replied.
“For now.” I shook my head slightly. “That’s exactly where I want them.”
Ares watched me carefully.
“They still have allies I need,” I continued. “Old ones. People who built things with them to keep us out of sight.”
“You need some of the old heads.”
“Exactly.”
I picked up my glass again.
“If they even suspect we’re planning something, those alliances shift.”
“And the board changes.”
“Exactly.”
Ares took a slow drag from his cigar. “So we let them feel comfortable?”
“Yup.”
I looked out at the water. “They believe the marriage puts them back in control. They think they’re arranging the future.”
Ares glanced at me. “And you’re letting them believe that?”
“For now.”
He nodded slowly.
Ares had power.
Real power.
Money. Territory. Influence.
But this war?
This was my family.
Which meant the rules were different.
He leaned back in his chair. “You know I follow your lead with your family.”
I looked at him.
“Good,” I said.
Because if he tried to take control of this situation, it would’ve been a problem.
But Ares understood strategy.
He understood patience.
“Your pops. He’s easier to predict.”
I nodded. “Devon is a street nigga, that’s why. They don’t think above the surface.”
“And your step-momma?”
I didn’t answer right away.
The wind picked up again, carrying the salt smell of the ocean.
“She believes she still has mind control over me. Not realizing I have dirt on her.”
Ares’ mouth curved slightly.
“Those are usually the most dangerous ones.”
“They’re also the easiest to head tap.”
I poured more whiskey into both glasses.
“The key to all of this is Yuna.”
Ares’ eyes shifted slightly.
“Explain.”
“She has to stay alive.”
“Obviously.”
“And she has to stay clean.”
That part mattered more than anyone outside this terrace would ever understand.
“Her addiction made her unpredictable,” I continued. “If she slips again, they’ll use it against me.”
Ares nodded slowly. “You’re planning further ahead than they are.”
“They’re emotional,” I said simply.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I said the part that mattered most.
“They think they’re arranging the future.”
Ares looked at me.
I finished my drink slowly.
“They don’t realize they’re arranging their own funerals.”
Ares set his cigar down and looked out over Monaco.
“So when do we move?”
I stood up and walked to the edge of the terrace.
“Soon… I’m going to go be with E. She’s been on edge.”
By the time I left Ares, the estate had gone quiet.
I headed upstairs.
When I stepped into our room, the balcony doors were open.
Emily was still awake.
She stood outside with a glass of wine in her hand.
For a second, I just stood there watching her.
She turned slightly when she heard me.
“You’re still up,” I said.
She smiled softly. “Couldn’t sleep.”
I stepped out onto the balcony.
“You’ve had a lot on your mind today. I can tell.”
“That’s an understatement.”
I slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
She tilted her head up toward me, and I kissed her.
Slow at first.
Then deeper.
The kind of kiss that reminded me why I’d stayed with her all these years.
Emily wrapped her arms around my neck.
But when we pulled apart, I could see the question in her eyes.
“Zay.”
“Yeah?”
She hesitated for a moment.
“Yuna told me about the marriage.”
My expression didn’t change.
“She told you?”
“She said she didn’t want to lie to me.”
I nodded slowly.
Emily looked out toward the ocean.
Her fingers tightened around her wine glass.
“Your mom keeps talking about arranged marriages for you.”
I waited.
She looked at me again.
“Is she going to do that to you, too?”
I let out a quiet breath.
“Fuck no.”
The relief in her face was immediate.
“You sure?”
“I’m positive.”
I reached for the glass in her hand and set it down on the small table beside us.
“My life doesn’t work like that.”
She studied me for a moment.
“Sometimes I feel like there’s a lot about your family I don’t understand.”
I brushed a strand of hair from her face.
“That’s on purpose.”
“You’re always protecting me.”
“Always.”
She stepped closer, resting her forehead against mine.
“You’re a good man, don’t ever forget that.”
I kissed her again.
This time slower.
Gentler.
I lifted her easily, setting her on the edge of the outdoor couch.
Emily laughed softly under her breath before pulling me down with her.
For a little while, Monaco didn’t feel like a battlefield at all.