12. Drake
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I’m surprised you made it on time.” Monty sniffed as she pulled her seatbelt on. My eyes weren’t focused on her cream blouse or her breasts or the way the seatbelt enhanced them when I slid into the black Escalade with her. “It’s amazing you’re up before ten at all.”
“Well, I’m not seventeen anymore.” I handed her the same coffee I’d brought her every morning for the past two weeks.
The corner of her lip curled up and dropped so quickly I almost missed it.
“Most of what I’m tasked with doing takes place at night.
Of course, I don’t normally wake up when the cock crows. ”
She turned her attention to the tinted windows and the indigo sky beyond.
So early in the day, much to my dismay, most of the city still slept.
Early stores were just beginning to flick on their neon signs, bedraggled businessmen were dragging themselves down the street with cups of coffee clutched in their hands.
Part of me lamented the ghastly early mornings, but each new day with her felt like Christmas.
I’d sacrifice my habit of sleeping in and my mid-day nap if it gifted me another hour in her presence.
“I assumed you planned to sleep in and forget to show up entirely.”
“If you were sleeping in my bed, I’d never be late to meet with you, Monty.”
Monty sputtered on her first sip as her guards pulled the car into the street. A victorious smirk twitched to life on my lips.
“Bordel de merde,” she huffed, wiping a drop of coffee from her bottom lip. She whipped her head around, glaring at me. My heart skipped, and I hid my grin by sipping my coffee—black and dark and bitter like the shriveled lump in my chest. “You can’t say things like that to me, Graham.”
“I can. You’re going to be my wife soon enough.
” I feigned boredom, as if our upcoming nuptials weren’t going to be the fucking highlight of my entire life.
“It’s funny to me that after all these years, our parents are suddenly the best of friends.
My mom even put her pill addiction on the back burner to focus on the special event.
Bringing two of the fiercest crime families together takes a clear head, I suppose. ”
“And you’re so interested?” she snipped.
I hummed, smiling with all the arrogance I could muster on two hours of sleep. “Naturally. I hear your mother chose teal for the table linens.”
“Teal!” Monty shrieked, and I swore the sleek waves of her hair doubled in size. I preferred her riotous curls and hoped they’d make an appearance by the end of our excursion. “Elle n’aurait jamais choisi le bleu sarcelle pour mon mariage. Elle sait mieux que ?a.”
I had no idea what she was saying. It didn’t matter. The indignant pinch of her brows and rapid movement of her lips curling around the French language excited me. Angry or not, she made those words sound like an angel singing in a choir.
Monty targeted me once again with her blazing scowl. I positively basked in it, trying not to smile with the delight twirling through my chest.
“I know you’re lying.” She smoothed her free hand over her hair and took another delicate sip of her coffee. “My father is planning the wedding, not Mother. I don’t know why you like to rile me up.”
“I’ve always had a knack for it.”
She scoffed. “Insufferable.”
Once upon a time, Monty had a talent for suffering me.
I secretly, fervently, wished she’d remember that.
When she faced the rear window again, I stole the opportunity to smile openly at her, glad for a moment to indulge in her presence.
Neither of us spoke for a long time, complacent in the silence as her guards ushered us from New York City.
“So, where are we headed this fine morning?” Fifteen minutes of the cold shoulder was quite enough for me. Besides, I needed to know what we were walking into on our first outing together.
“Just because I have to work with you and bring you along does not mean I have to include you in the details.” She returned to ignoring me, choosing to focus on the passing view. The first streaks of dawn reached over the horizon, painting the skyline flaming red and gold.
I continued looking at her and couldn’t help thinking about how stunningly beautiful she was.
Even when she was annoyed by the prospect of forced cooperation with me, she utterly enchanted me, body and soul.
Watching her work the past two weeks had struck me with how brilliant, fierce, and unrelenting she was in every pursuit.
Just like our school days with her genius, paired with her past decade of radiant talent. She was exquisite—breathtaking.
But what a way to go. If it was Helen’s dainty little hands wrapped around my neck, I’d move into the afterlife with a big, dumb grin plastered across my face, I realized. A thought not at all befitting of a dangerous man like me.
“Monty—”
“Stop calling me that.”
“—I at least need to know what we’re walking into. With my very specific skill set?—”
She shifted in her seat, where she’d practically pressed herself against the door. She remained unphased as she stared me down. The slight purse of her lips mirrored her mother.
“We have my guards, and we have me. I hardly need you here at all, but it will please both our parents to know I’ve brought you along.” She leaned forward a fraction, expression pinched with distaste. “We’re meeting my team on site; your skill set isn’t necessary.”
“You invited me.”
She stiffened, facing away. I almost couldn’t inhale in her presence without fear her intoxicating grapefruit scent might strangle me to death.
“As I said, our parents, specifically my mother, will ask for updates.” Her chest rose and fell heavier. “It’s been weeks, and we’re no closer to finding who ordered the attack.”
“And there have been more attacks,” I added offhand.
Monty bristled again, crushing the empty white cup in her dainty hand. “What?”
I raised a brow at her, enjoying the irritation flashing across her profile.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” I drawled. “Yeah, the Chuns had a warehouse ransacked and before their cameras were destroyed, they caught footage of those masks.”
“No one told me. When did this happen? How many attackers? What was stolen?”
“Slow down!” I bit down a laugh at her frazzled need for information. It tickled me seeing her so thrown off. But she deserved it. “I might have told you sooner if you were equally forthcoming with information.”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s entirely fair, Monty.” My voice was low and deliberate, and her eyes glinted like shards of glass.
“We must work together. Watching you day after day is thrilling on its own, but we have a job to do. If you keep working around me, this entire ordeal will take longer. We might even face another attack ourselves?—”
“But—”
“—And trust me, watching you work is fascinating. On top of the things that you do for your family, you also flawlessly handle your responsibilities on the business end. I watched a grown man cower from you at that meeting I shadowed last week.” My cock twitched just remembering her fiery aura and the department head nearly pissing himself under the force of her potent glare.
“But we are no closer to finding the responsible party, and there have been more attacks on the other families. It’s only a matter of time before we’re facing these fuckers again, and I don’t want to stumble into a full-blown war with my pants around my ankles. ”
Her sharp exhale and trembling fist in her lap were the only signs she heard me. For several excruciating moments, she vibrated with irritation, and I swear I could hear the grinding of her teeth. When she broke the silence, I mentally told myself to take a fucking breath.
“I’m ignoring that because it’s more convenient for my argument,” Monty gritted out.
“Which is?”
“I don’t want to tell you what I know or what I’m doing because I don’t want to work alongside you. Simple as that.”
Whoever said that time heals all wounds was a damn fool. Or perhaps I’d been the fool for believing it. A mountain of wounds and mistakes sat between us, and suddenly ten years felt like not enough time for what I’d done to us to knit into a scar.
People in our world didn’t apologize. We were above expressions of regret or indulging in the saccharine flavor of forgiveness. Yet an apology balanced on the tip of my tongue, bullying my teeth for freedom.
“Too bad you’re stuck with me then, Monty. You don’t have a choice.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You idiot!
I knew it before I said it and I knew it when Helen Montgomery gave me a look that clearly communicated, ‘I will be killing you at my earliest convenience.’
And I, rightly so, believed that. Foot meet mouth. That was absolutely the last thing I should have said.
We sat in silence until our glorious little outing took us to the vibrant, not at all terrible land of Brookelyn. In reality, I had nothing against the city, but it also had nothing for me. But Helen was in Brookelyn. So, I was in Brookelyn.
Her bodyguards drove into an average urban neighborhood with copy and pasted buildings, boring gardens, and kids with colorful backpacks rushing to school.
We stopped outside a two-story red brick house with a new Cadillac in the driveway.
Training kicked in—there were two black Escalades on the street in view of the house.
Each car had a single guard in sunglasses with their attention on the area.
The guards, Bobby and Gordon (who cared), exited the car with one of them opening Monty’s door for her. She stepped out in the dim light of sunrise, flicking invisible lint off her sharp blouse and tailored black trousers. I hopped from the car and followed her up the driveway.
“Are you going to tell me why we’re here now?”
She pointedly rolled her eyes, wanting me to see her exasperation. But she looked at me, and that was all I ever wanted. Though her vicious glare held more venom than before.
“Tell me, has The Dragon—” I held back a cringe “—heard of Tony Fat Stacks?”