Chapter Thirty-five
“What?”
Three voices spoke in unison, each laden with the same confusion.
The fingers around my neck loosened, then fell away entirely as Kellan took several steps toward Nico.
I didn’t understand Nico’s announcement or how it could benefit me. Maybe it wasn’t supposed to. Maybe whatever was happening had nothing to do with me at all. Regardless, it had bought me a reprieve, and I intended to cling to it with both hands.
“You can’t resign,” Queenie said. “You’re… family.”
The slight hesitation before she settled on that particular word spoke volumes.
“I have a contract of employment,” Nico replied. “We drew it up when I was eighteen, remember.” His gaze shifted to Henry. “You thought it best, so I didn’t get ideas above my station.”
Henry laughed softly. “That wasn’t the reason. You’ve got things twisted.”
Nico gave a small shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I have a contract of employment, and this is my formal resignation.”
“Tell him he can’t resign,” Kellan said, his characteristic petulance returning.
Nico’s gaze turned cold when it settled on the other man. Not icy with hatred, just cool enough to make it clear there was no affection between them. Which blew what Kellan had claimed about their relationship in the car out of the water.
“You don’t get to decide,” Nico said. “I don’t work for you.”
Kellan opened his mouth to argue, but Queenie cut him off.
“Something has obviously upset you today, darling.” A faint crease appeared between her brows as she searched for a reason.
“I suggest we all take some time to relax. The case went on for a long time. I shall have to speak to Judge Wainwright and remind him that a good show needn’t become an odyssey. ”
“He wasn’t there for most of it,” Kellan muttered.
The pause before Nico answered made me wonder whether this was simply a bargaining tactic. Maybe the timing was a coincidence. Maybe he really was angling for better employment terms.
“No,” he said at last. “I’ve made up my mind. My contract states that I can resign without notice.”
Queenie looked to Henry with a frown.
He shrugged. “I didn’t think it would matter. Nico’s one of us. The idea of him resigning never seemed realistic.”
“Yet, you let him put it in there?” Queenie’s tone had turned accusatory now.
“Lawyers drew it up,” Henry said, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s not as though I wrote it myself.”
“It also states,” Nico said, “that I’m entitled to a severance gift. Something of my choosing. A thank you for my years of service.”
Henry strode over to a bureau at the side of the room. He had a checkbook and a pen in his hand when he returned. Flipping it open, he poised the pen over the page. “How much?”
While everyone’s attention remained fixed on Nico, it occurred to me I should probably try to escape.
I glanced at the door, only a few feet away.
But where would I go once I got through it?
It wasn’t as though I could ask for help when I couldn’t even speak. I could maybe persuade someone to remove the gag, but I’d learned the hard way that even those like Donovan, who I’d thought might be friends, weren’t really. Everyone answered to the Harts.
“I don’t want your money,” Nico said. His voice was cool and precise, not a trace of emotion escaping.
“Then what do you want?” Queenie asked.
Nico turned toward me, his eyes finding mine for the first time. “I want him.”
A stunned silence met his announcement, during which I had to make a conscious effort to breathe.
Queenie was the first to break it. “Him?” In another time and another place, the disbelief in her voice would have caused grave offense. “Why would you want him? He’s a nobody.”
“Then accepting my terms shouldn’t be a problem,” Nico said.
“He’s mine.” Kellan practically growled the words. “He’s my pet. You can’t have him. Tell him, Mother.”
Henry gave the checkbook a little shake. “Under the circumstances, perhaps we can agree on a monetary amount instead. Ask for enough and it’ll buy you a whore every night for the rest of your life.”
The comparison wasn’t lost on me. For a fleeting moment, I considered launching myself at him.
I might not be able to bite him—where had that thought come from?
—but I still had my hands. Common sense quickly overruled the impulse.
Security was just outside the door, and getting myself dragged out of the room would undo everything Nico was trying to accomplish.
“No.” Nico didn’t even glance at the checkbook. “That’s my demand.”
Queenie sighed. “Perhaps in the morning we can—”
“No,” Nico repeated. “Not in the morning.”
Kellan’s eyes narrowed. “You only want him because he’s mine.”
“He was mine first.” The words were delivered pleasantly enough, but I could see the strain beneath them in the rigid line of Nico’s jaw and the muscle ticking in his cheek. “You took him from my apartment.”
“You’re not supposed to take a flamingo for yourself,” Henry pointed out.
“No?” Nico laughed. It was brief and entirely humorless. “But Kellan can take a guest whenever the whim strikes him. Todd was a guest, remember?”
Queenie frowned. “Todd?”
“His last pet.”
Recognition dawned. “Right.” She took a measured sip of her drink before turning toward her son. “We can get you another pet tomorrow, sweetheart.” Her gaze traveled over me. Nothing complimentary lived in it. “A better one.”
“I want that one.” The whine in Kellan’s voice would have been ridiculous if it weren’t so dangerous.
Henry sighed and rubbed his temples, as though the entire conversation was giving him a headache.
I held my breath.
My future rested on who won this battle of wills.
An uneasy silence settled over the room, with the four of them eyeing each other like opponents in an arena rather than the family they claimed to be.
Nico moved first. Crossing the room, he stopped beside me and grasped my shoulder. “Up.”
My heart hammered as I obeyed. Hard enough that it felt like I might pass out. I avoided looking at the Harts. It felt safer that way.
Nico’s grip shifted to my elbow, steering me toward the door. The moment felt like a powder keg about to blow at any minute.
One step.
Then another.
“You’re breaking my heart by acting like this,” Queenie called after him. “We gave you everything. A home. A good job. Power. The freedom to do whatever you wanted. Is this really how you intend to repay us for taking you in?”
The door was within reach.
“And I’m grateful for it,” Nico replied. “But all good things come to an end.” His mouth curved slightly. “Call it my rebellious teenage phase arriving a few years too late.”
Then he shoved me through the door. The reception room’s paintings looked no less ghoulish on a repeat viewing. A second later, Nico was beside me. He grabbed my arm and propelled me toward the exit at a pace that bordered on a jog.
“Don’t look at anyone,” he murmured close to my ear. “And do exactly what I say.”
I nodded.
Adrenaline had turned my limbs to jelly. Had I been capable of speaking, I would have bombarded him with questions. For that reason, perhaps it was for the best that the gag remained firmly in place.