Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
KAI
“ I fucking won’t,” I tell Pop, pacing his office. “You fucking negotiated a fucking marriage for me? What the fuck?”
Pop watches me pace, his face blank and uncaring. “You will do your fucking duty to this family. Be useful. For once, your…perversion can be more beneficial to this family than a detriment.”
“Be useful?” I shout, rounding on him. “I’m always fucking useful! Anything you ask me to do, I fucking do it. This family runs because of me.”
“No!” Pop bellows standing and slamming both hands on his desk. “This family runs because of me and all that I’ve done. You just take fucking orders. Like you will now. You will marry Carter, and you won’t say another fucking word about it.”
My anger won’t be contained, despite what Pop says or how he threatens me. “Why? Because of those threats you’ve been getting? We can take care of our family and eliminate whoever is after us. We don’t need them.”
Over the past few weeks, someone has been trying hard to put a dent in how our family runs. They’ve intercepted the alcohol deliveries for our club, stolen a shipment of drugs and almost got away with some of the pills we move. They didn’t succeed because the driver that had that shipment was able to get away by blowing through a red light.
Pop likes to pretend he’s not worried around me, but I’ve heard him discussing with his guard that we have to find some way to stop the mystery people before we end up in a war we can’t possibly win.
“Yeah?” Pop rounds his desk and gets in my face. “You think someone that is on a smaller scale than this family will take on two families at once? We don’t have the fucking manpower to repel anyone. We need the Whitlocks like they need us. If not, we’ll be killed and the family that does the killing will take over fucking South Jersey.” I cross my arms over my chest, irritation radiating off me. “It’s fucking done. You’ll be married in two weeks, and you’ll move in with him.”
When he dropped the news that I would be entering an alliance with Carter fucking Whitlock via marriage, I figured I’d have to move out of this place. But I didn’t think Pop would sound so fucking gleeful about it. I can almost hear the note of elation that I would no longer be residing under his roof. It hurts more than I’d like to admit.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
He scoffs, pushing past me to exit his office. “This isn’t about you, Kaison. It’s about protecting this family and its name. You’ll do your duty to this family and form this truce. Besides, other than being the heir to the Whitlock family, Carter is an accountant. He can be an asset to our business and since he’ll be family, he’ll have our best interest. Especially at that construction company you insist on holding. It needs an overhaul from what I hear. Stop being stubborn and sign it over so I can make it better. More fucking profitable if you’re going to waste your time on it.”
My construction company is very profitable, and Pop damn well knows it. We just landed a contract on a strip mall at the edge of Yorkley, the next town over. Not only does it do well legitimately, but I’m able to launder money through the company and we get it back clean.
No matter what I try to do to better this family, Pop will shit all over it. He tries to minimize everything I do, just so he can make it seem like he carries this family on his back. If not for me, we wouldn’t have half the businesses we do or the connections we have. Pop is good at what he does—running this family—but he lacks severely in diplomacy. I’ve undercut several families to get our connections, and none have been the wiser. If Pop were doing the negotiating, we’d be the weakest family in the area.
“I’m keeping my business,” I practically growl. This is a fight Pop and I have often. He’s probably hoping to wear me down with his persistence. “My accountants are fine. I don’t need him.”
“You might not, but you’ll use him anyway. You’ll strengthen this family. Make that Whitlock boy fall for you, adopt a kid or whatever your kind do and tie him to you forever.” I hiss at his words but swallow the sound.
This is fucking bullshit, but there’s nothing I can do or say to get him to change his mind. “What if I say no?”
Pop turns around, a stormy look on his face. “There is no fucking saying no, Kai. I gave my word. You will not fucking embarrass me.”
He put me in a terrible position. If I duck out on his arrangement, his reputation and that of our family will be damaged. No one will want to do business with him, thinking he won’t hold up his end of the bargain. So, I’m forced to do his bidding. If I’m to take over the family, I need our reputation intact, not be the reason it’s in tatters.
I’m not sure why Pop thinks I’ll be able to run both the St. Clair and the Whitlock families on my own. Just as Carter wouldn’t be able to run the St. Clair family. I’ll be an outsider. It’ll take years, decades even, for that family to trust me. I’m not sure what delusions he has, but he should abandon that shit now.
Shaking my head, I say, “I’ll do it, but only until this threat is neutralized. After that, we’re divorcing, and I’m done with that family.”
Pop stares at me, his face reddening because I dare negotiate with him. But it’s my life. It’s for the family, but my life matters too. I won’t be stuck in a marriage with my enemy for hypothetical wars. The one on the horizon is the only one I have to worry about. After that, my life will be my own.
Through clenched teeth, Pop says, “Five years. Five. By that time, I’ll be retired, and you can do what the fuck you want. But if there is a war because of your stupid fucking need for independence, you’ll be on your own. I’ll snatch the reins from you, so you don’t ruin everything I’ve built.”
I incline my head. That’s as good as I’ll get. I’ve worked too hard not to run this family when he retires. I’ll do what I have to do to get my birthright. “Fine.”
“Now let’s go. We need to meet with the Whitlocks to discuss this wedding. It has to be big, and it has to be public. It might give whoever is fucking with our shit some pause and make them think twice about crossing us.”
I grunt and follow him out of the house.
We arrive at the Azure Rose Casino forty-five minutes later. I grin when I look over at the craps table. That was a good scrap. There’ll be no more of that since we’re probably supposed to be a happy couple or some shit.
The elevator whisks us to the top floor, the glass doors gliding open when it stops. Carter’s guard pushes off the wall when he sees us, his face set in a mask of indifference. I bristle at his lack of acknowledgment. “Good afternoon,” I mutter, sending him a sharp smile.
He grunts and says, “Follow me. They’re waiting in the conference room.” He walks away without seeing if we follow. I look at Pop and I’m not surprised to see a flash of anger cross his face. We’re the same in that regard—any dismissals are taken as personal slights.
Pop grabs the man’s arm and before he can turn around with some bullshit, places a gun to his temple. Pop steps closer, and they stand nose to nose. “Make that the last fucking time you show me your back in such a disrespectful way. If not, I will put you down and pay for your shitty pine box. Understand me?”
To his credit, the guard doesn’t even flinch. He stares my father down with an almost bored expression. Like a gun to his head means nothing. “You feel better? Feel like you’ve marked your territory?”
Pop snarls and clicks the safety off. “Not yet. Your blood on the wall might give me a twinge of satisfaction.”
The guard smiles—more of a grimace—and says, “Do what you gotta do. But you’ll still be needed in the conference room.”
“That’s enough, Gavin,” comes from down the hall. Carter steps closer to us and crosses his arms over his chest. “We gonna do this or what?”
Pop and the guard—Gavin—stare each other down, neither willing to back off. I watch, hoping Pop will splatter his blood across the wall. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him work.
But I’m sure the implications of the truce being voided if he does looms large, because he clicks the safety back on his gun and puts it in the holster. “Yeah, we’re gonna do this. But he comes nowhere near our discussion.” Pop points to Gavin with disdain.
“Go, Gavin. We’ll talk later,” Carter says in a hard voice.
Gavin drags his eyes from Pop and meets Carter’s. “You got it, boss.” He saunters down the hall, head held high.
“This way,” Carter says, glaring at me before he looks at Pop. “Dad is waiting.”
We follow behind him to the end of the hall. The room we step into has a large table that can seat at least twenty people. The large windows overlook the entirety of Yorkley, the lights of the evening not yet illuminated, but I’d wager the view is nice when it is. Annoyance and a twinge of jealousy nags at me because the Whitlocks have the tallest building on the strip. It’s the one business they got over us and me and Pop are still sore about it.
A bar lines the opposite wall, all manner of top shelf liquor stocked up. If I trusted the Whitlocks, I would pour a glass of Jack just to get through this farce, but I don’t, so I’ll have to wait until I get home to drink this nightmare away.
Dominic stands and shakes Pop’s hand. Neither of them looks happy about it, but they’re not openly hostile. Not like Carter and I are. He glares at me just as I glare at him. I can’t believe our dads think this is a good idea. It’s no secret that we fucking loathe each other.
Maybe that’s the point. Every other family will know that we’re together not because we love each other and want to live happily ever after, but because we put aside our differences to make our families stronger. It’ll send a clear message that we’re willing to do anything to survive, even if it means working with our enemies.
Pop and I sit at the other end of the table. Nothing is said for many untold minutes, everyone getting the measure of each other.
Dominic’s guards glare at ours, distrust mirrored on everyone’s face. If someone makes a wrong move, it’ll be a blood bath in this room.
Finally, Dominic says, “You all can go. We need to speak privately.” The men we brought with us regard Pop as the Whitlock men regard Dominic. Then they take their leave. When we’re alone, Dominic says, “This isn’t the most ideal situation, but we need each other.”
“We could always have a truce without marriage,” I mutter.
“For once, I agree with the bitch across from me,” Carter says.
“Fucking enough,” Dominic declares with a hard edge to his tone. “A marriage tells the world that we are stronger together and we will fight for each other. What are promises? Words that can be easily broken. But with you two married, you become family. When you fuck with family, you die. What is it that’s so hard to understand about that?”
“I got it, Dad,” Carter says, though he doesn’t sound happy about it.
“How will we merge our businesses?” Pop asks. I should have known he’d want to know that above anything else. “I have businesses in my name and Kai has some in his.”
“Same with me and Carter.”
Pop pauses and seems like he’s chewing over his words. Then begrudgingly, he says, “We keep our shit separate for anything they came into the marriage with. They can buy and accumulate other shit together and it can be in both St. Clair and Whitlock names. Any kids they have will inherit everything.”
Kids? I balk at that thought. Not at having kids, I’ve always wanted kids. Two. But having them with Carter? It’s never been a thought in my mind. Judging by how quick tempered he is, he’d probably be a horrible father. I already have a shit dad; I won’t subject my future children to that.
Carter looks about as unimpressed with the idea as I do. His lips are turned down at the corners, his eyes brimming with irritation. Then I meet his eyes and know nothing will be accomplished if left up to us. If I could get away with it, I’d toss him out this window and smile when he paints the sidewalk below with his blood. Kids wouldn’t be relevant then.
“Carter is an accountant,” Dominic says, thumbing to his son. Pop already told me that. I’m wondering why he’s so fucking proud of that fact. I went to college too. “He can go over your books and make sure everything looks good.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell them both to fuck off, that my guys can handle it all, but Pop talks over me. “And you have that new restaurant that’s been halted because of that construction company that went under. Kai has a company that can get started immediately after the wedding.”
“Speaking of the wedding,” Dominic says, leaning forward and threading his fingers together, “two weeks is too long to wait. We don’t know when someone will try something new and ramp up these skirmishes to an all-out confrontation. Two of our warehouses were hit, halting shipments to two different organizations out of state. It’s fucking with our money. The sooner you two,” he points between me and Carter, “are wed, the sooner whoever is fucking with us will back off.”
“How soon are you thinking?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Next week,” Carter says through clenched teeth, not looking happy about this bullshit either.
“That’s too soon,” I tell them, not caring how petulant it makes me sound. “It’s not enough time to?—”
“It’s plenty of time,” Pop cuts me off and I narrow my eyes at the side of his head. “Seven days, and we’ll have a wedding large enough that every family from here to New York will know about it.” Pop looks at me in challenge. After a few beats, I look away, fire dancing in my veins.
First, he plans for us to get married, then puts a time limit on how long I have to stick it out. Now we go from two weeks for me to wrap my mind around a fucking marriage to Carter to one fucking week.
Carter looks at me and raises an eyebrow. I ignore it and throw my hands up. “Whatever. Just tell me where to be and what to wear. I need some air. Pop, I’ll be at the car.”
I can feel his glare on my back, but I don’t give a fuck. He’s called all the shots. This is his wedding; I’m just the hapless groom standing in. Carter and I are just pawns in the games of the heads of our families. If we were the bosses, this fucking sham marriage wouldn’t have even been considered.
One of Pop’s guards follows me since he ordered Nico to stay behind.
Maybe this marriage won’t be a total wash. I’ll be able to do what the fuck I want to do without being under Pop’s thumb. With all I do for our family, you’d think he wouldn’t give me as much shit as he does and let me make my own decisions.
Knowing I won’t be under his roof and under his control fills me with mixed emotions. I’m so used to his bullshit, it’s almost second nature. Now I’ll be free.
But am I just exchanging one prison for another?