Chapter 34 #2
I stepped closer to Juarez, closing the space between us until I could smell the expensive cologne mingling with the faint scent of gunpowder that always seemed to cling to him. My voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
"Careful with your threats, Don Juarez. Three of your men have already disappeared from your San Diego operation. Perhaps you should be more concerned about the snakes in your own garden than about my personal affairs."
His eyes widened slightly—a brief flash of surprise before his mask of control slipped back into place.
"I know exactly who handles my problems," he said, his voice hardening. "And I always find the source of my . . . infestations."
"Do you?" I smiled, the kind that had made grown men weep before me. "Because I heard Felix Westwood's operation is moving into your San Diego territory while you're here playing at diplomacy."
A muscle twitched in his jaw. I'd struck a nerve. Good.
"You would do well to remember that while I respect your father, respect is earned, not inherited," he hissed. "The Owl’s Talon has yet to prove himself worthy of fear."
Lying bastard. There was still a flicker of fear and terror that went through his eyes, and I took solace in that.
Smirking, I let a bit of that deadly calm wash over me as I remembered how I had skinned one of my own men for failing in his duties.
"Ask the men who cleaned up after me in Barstow last month if I'm worthy of fear.
Oh wait. You can't. They're feeding the snakes somewhere in Death Valley. "
When I pulled back, something had changed in his eyes. There was now a flicker of uncertainty. Good. Let him wonder how much I knew, how deep my reach extended into his organization.
"This partnership benefits us both," I said, my voice returning to a conversational tone as my father approached. "But make no mistake. Threaten what's mine again and our families will be united through blood of a different kind."
“Now, now, my talon. Don Juarez knows exactly the kind of assets I have at my disposal. No need to caution him.”
Juarez nodded to his men, who began moving toward the vehicles. "Until our next meeting, Ezequiel. I look forward to seeing Rhea soon."
We watched as Don Juarez continued on and slid into the back seat of one of the vehicles. As they drove away, my father turned to me, fury barely contained beneath his calm exterior. “My office. Now.”
I exchanged a quick glance with Harley, who gave an imperceptible nod before melting away to oversee the security sweep. The click of my shoes against marble echoed as I followed my father back into his sanctum.
The heavy oak door had barely shut behind me when he spun around and growled, "What was that?"
"Just establishing boundaries. He needed reminding that our partnership doesn't mean he can make threats against us—or those connected to us."
He didn't speak until he was behind his desk, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "You felt it too, didn't you?"
"Juarez is making a play," I confirmed, remaining standing. "Eight men for a 'friendly' discussion is beyond excessive."
Father's eyes narrowed. "He's testing us. Probing for weaknesses." He gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit."
I complied, watching as he opened a drawer and extracted a small black device, placing it between us. A signal jammer.
"Keep your phone close at all times," he said, his voice low despite the protection against surveillance. "I don't like how many of Juarez's men have been spotted around our territory lately. The shipyard. The club. Even that coffee shop you frequent."
My jaw tightened. Paradise Club. Elin.
Where they able to still buy themselves a way in?
"Surveillance?"
"More than that. They're looking for entry points." Father's finger tapped rhythmically against the polished wood. "I need you to be vigilant. Make sure they don't get into any family business. Not a glimpse of our books, our routes, our suppliers."
"You don't trust the alliance," I stated rather than asked.
"I trust leverage," he replied coldly. "Once Rhea is married to him, we'll have it. Until then . . ." He let the implication hang.
I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat. "And if he discovers Rhea isn't exactly . . . enthusiastic about the arrangement?"
Father's eyes hardened to flint. "Then you do your job, talon. You ensure she understands her duty."
Like you made me understand mine with Joel. The bitter thought was loud in my mind, but I kept my mouth shut . . . for now.
His gaze swung up to the portraits of our family over the years. When he reached the large oil painting of my grandparents, his voice was more affirming and dangerous than I had heard it in a long time. "This alliance is delicate. Your sister's future and our family's expansion depend on it."
Standing up straight, I stared at my father. "And what about Elin's future? He threatened her directly."
My father's face hardened. "The Perkins woman is a liability. She's already betrayed us once—or have you forgotten that she was feeding information to the feds?"
"She did no such thing. We provided you proof Hillabrand was a lying fuck. He wanted to hurt us, had been after us for years. I took care of the problem, as is my job in this family. Elin has proven her loyalty to me.”
"Loyal?" He laughed, a cold, hollow sound. "She's using you to get close to our operation. Just like her father tried with your sister."
“Joel was an integral part of this family, Father. He and Rhea were in love. You don’t get to use what happiness they had against me.”
Silence filled his office, and when he turned to sit at his desk, he said, "Your attachment to this woman is clouding your judgment. She needs to be dealt with."
My blood ran cold. "Touch her and I'll burn this whole fucking empire to the ground."
The words hung between us, treasonous and raw. My father stared at me, genuine shock registering on his face for perhaps the first time in my life.
"You would choose her over family?" His voice was deadly quiet.
“She is mine and under my protection." I let the truth of it settle into my bones. "And I protect what's mine."
For a long moment, we stared at each other in silence. Finally, he spoke. "Fix this, Gavriel. Whatever hold she has on you, break it. Or I will break it for you."
"Again, she is mine and under my protection. I'm not taking orders from you about my personal life. Not after you killed Joel and made me remove his heart to prove your control over our family."
The mention of his name made my father flinch—a small victory. "Don't push me on this."
"Or what? You'll put a bullet in my head too? Find another heir to do your dirty work?" I turned back to face him.
He wouldn’t go after me personally, but Elin and Rhea were another thing. I'd seen what he was capable of. But Elin had changed everything—changed my perspective. For her, I would face even this monster who had shaped me.
"You're making a grave mistake," he said softly.
"No, the mistake was thinking I had to become you to survive." Anger simmered in my bones and I was doing everything I could to keep it under control. Turning, I strode for the door. "I need to check on Rhea. Make sure she's actually safe at the lake house."
I turned my back on him mid-sentence and strode out, the leather of my shoes striking the marble like gunshots.
My fingers twitched toward my phone, as I was already mentally composing the discussion with Harley about doubling security at Paradise.
Behind my eyes flashed an image of Elin’s face, of Rhea in a white dress beside Juarez.
My jaw clenched so hard I could have cracked a tooth in protest. The heavy door slammed behind me as my phone vibrated in my pocket.
Elin's name flashed on the screen, along with a text that made my heart stop:
Elin: Someone broke into the house. Handled it. One of Juarez's men. We need to talk.
My steps quickened. Juarez had moved faster than I’d anticipated. This wasn't just about business anymore—this was war. And I needed to get to Elin before anyone else did.
I called Harley while running to my car. "Get a team to the lake house. Now. I don't think Rhea's there."
"What?" Harley's voice sharpened even through the wind coming through the mic. "Where would she be?"
"I don't know, but my father's lying about something. And call Brandon—tell him to increase security at the club. No one gets in without direct approval."
As I sped down the driveway, another text came through from Elin:
Elin: Your sister called. She said your father sent men to "protect" her at her apartment.
Her apartment? I thought she was at the lake house? Switching screens, I pulled up the text thread with Rhea.
Gavriel: Are the trees green or grey?
Rhea: Grey. Are they supposed to be green this time of year?
Gavriel: According the patriarchy. ??
Rhea: LOL Nope. Pretty grey looking outside.
Gavriel: So, no green outside? No sunlight glistening off the lake?
Rhea: I wouldn’t know. Haven’t seen the lake.
Shit! There wasn’t a window at the lake house that wouldn’t give you a stunning sight of the water. Which means, she’s not there, but at her place.
A text from Elin popped down as I thought of how to respond.
Elin: Harley said he’ll help with cleanup.
I gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles whitened. Protection or prison? With my father, they were often the same thing.
Timelines had been moved up and were moving fast. The careful balance I'd maintained was collapsing, and I needed to choose which pieces to save.
Family or freedom. Loyalty or love.
For the first time in my life, the choice was clear.