Chapter 4
FOUR DAYS LATER
BISHOP
Today should be a huge celebration.
This land that holds the second Hawke Hotel tower was once owned by Falcon Enterprises. Controlled by a man who was our sworn enemy. We feared him. We fought him. Now, I can’t imagine Cass not being one of us.
Opening this tower should feel like putting the final nail in the coffin on everything that went down with him and all the bad shit that happened when we thought Falcon was behind the attacks on us, but instead, I’m more on edge than I have ever been.
From up on the dais, I survey the gathering crowd in the lobby.
Shockingly, my suggestion that we move the festivities completely inside because it would be easier to manage was taken to heart.
I hadn’t been sure it would be. It meant severely limiting who is here—even more so than we had already decided to.
But at least in the tower itself, we have control.
Unlike the groundbreaking for the main hotel when anyone could’ve taken a shot at us standing out in the open.
I often wonder why Satriano didn’t that day…
It would have been the perfect opportunity to attack us—when we were distracted and concentrating on the festivities.
When he did show up, everything was over, almost as if it were a taunt about the fact that he could have easily done much worse and didn’t.
Another statement that we weren’t truly safe anywhere.
Which only makes me more certain something is going to happen today…
Adding this second tower is the final step in finishing off the Hawke Hotel and the first in building what will hopefully be our empire of them across the Gulf Coast—maybe beyond it.
A direct competitor of the man who seems to have his foot on our throats.
It’s the ideal time for him to remind us of that fact.
My stomach churns as I pace and continue to search the crowd from my raised position, looking for signs of anything amiss, while the rest of our security team does the same.
Stationed at each entrance, mingling with everyone gathered to celebrate with us, watching our backs when we’ll be busy smiling for the cameras.
Even with literally dozens and dozens of skilled guards scouring every inch of the place, it still feels like we’re missing something.
Dad’s gaze follows me as I pass him where he stands next to Mom on the dais. “You can stop.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
He grabs my arm and pulls me beside him, dipping his head to whisper in my ear. “I’ve been doing this job for longer than you’ve been alive, Bishop, and I’ll tell you one thing—it’ll eat you alive if you let it.”
“I’m fine, Dad.”
“No”—he shakes his head—“you’re not.” A long sigh slips from his lips, filled with parental love and frustration. “And you haven’t been for a while. You’re not the only one who feels like they failed.”
My back stiffens as I glance at him, finally drawing my eyes away from the sea of people for the first time since they started arriving.
He holds my gaze. “After what happened to Ben and Storm, you don’t think I felt like a failure?”
The mere mention of the tragedy that shook the Hawkes so intensely over thirty years ago intensifies the pain I carry for the man I never even met.
Echoes of the agony the people I love so much suffered then still reverberate today.
Apparently more than I realized because looking into Dad’s dark eyes, I can see his distress even now.
“With everything that’s happened the last couple of years on top of that…
” Shaking his head, his eagle-sharp gaze sweeps over the crowd briefly before returning to me, as if even while trying to lecture me, he can’t turn off his instincts either.
“I get it. I really do, Bishop. But I don’t want you to turn into me. ”
“What do you mean?”
He’s one of the best human beings I know.
An incredible father, husband, friend, and protector of everyone he loves.
He’s everything I strive to be.
“Don’t let this be your whole life, sweetheart.
” He sweeps a large hand out toward the lobby.
“I have your mother to keep me…grounded. To prevent me from over-analyzing everything and falling into some deep, dark hole of guilt every time something doesn’t go the way it’s supposed to.
Every time I feel like I’ve failed, your mom reminds me of why I fell in love with her by refusing to let me fall prey to that need to punish myself. What do you have? Who do you have?”
I scowl at him, but he’s right.
Nothing.
No one.
Those are the answers to his questions.
No amount of time spent in the ring with Atlas, tied up on the Jiu-jitsu mat, or out on the range firing off rounds can do for me what Mom does for him.
She does ground him. She is his lifeline in a sea of uncertainty.
And lately it’s felt like I’m floating around aimlessly, unable to grasp onto anything that will help me feel like I’m not drowning in my failures.
It’s my duty to protect these people. Not just because it’s my job, but because I love them. Any injury to them is like a blow to me directly.
And it’s been so long since I’ve done anything for me, since I’ve been able to actually relax and enjoy myself without wondering what I am forgetting or who might be in danger if I take one second to think about myself that I can’t even remember when it was.
“After we get this Satriano stuff sorted out, I’ll take a vacation, Dad. Go back to Jamaica and see everyone there, or something like that. Until then…”
Leave it alone.
That last part goes unsaid because I would never want him to think I don’t appreciate his concern for my well-being, but I can’t be worrying about him worrying if I need to unravel Satriano’s sinister plans before he strikes again.
He offers me a smile that tells me he doesn’t believe for a second that I’ll actually take time off, then leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Stop making excuses and do it.”
The man has always known when to push me and when to let things go, and as he walks away toward where Savage and Gabe wait to start the welcome speech and where Mom now chats with Dani, eyeing us like she knows exactly what he was saying to me, I know this was one of the moments he knew pushing would only make it worse.
At least this is almost over.
Only a few more minutes until the official ceremony, which Savage promised to keep brief, then we can clear a lot of these people out of here; the mayor, the news crews, all the friends and business associates we invited.
Even though we limited the guest list, it’s still hundreds of people crammed into the lobby.
Too many people.
Too many dangers.
I shiver and resume my pacing…
And watching.
People mill about, excited chatter filling the massive atrium lobby that Cass, Landon, Storm, Kennedy, and everyone else spent so much time perfecting. They take in the spectacle of the massive chandelier and ooh and aah over the other art deco designs sprinkled throughout the space.
It’s the kind of excitement that should be contagious.
I try to push away the anxiety threatening to overwhelm me, drawing in long, slow breaths. If anything did happen, I can’t risk having a shaky hand.
Steady.
My heartrate starts to slow, my breathing following suit, and I almost convince my body that there isn’t any reason to be worried when a flash of blond hair in my peripheral vision draws my attention.
Before I have a chance to turn fully toward it, Pope hustles over. He narrows his eyes on me, immediately seeing how tense I am. “Hey, we’re all set. Everything good here?”
I scan the crowd one more time and lock gazes with the head of hotel security. He nods toward me, letting me know that things are as they should be, and I turn to Pope. “We’re good.”
Saying the words out loud feels like tolling some sort of bell.
Like tempting fate.
Another shiver rolls through my spine, and a member of the hotel security team hustles up to the dais with a box in hand and holds it out toward me.
“What’s this?”
“It was just delivered to the front door.” He tilts his head toward the main entrance. “I didn’t want to let the delivery guy in since he wasn’t on the approved list.”
“Did you clear the box?”
He nods. “We checked it for explosives, and it was clean.”
Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better about a mysterious box showing up now.
I take it and slowly slide off the lid.
Pope shifts closer and looks over my shoulder. “What is it?”
An omen.
Tossing the lid to the side, I reach in and pull out a bottle of champagne—a very, very expensive bottle of Dom Pérignon Rosé Gold Methuselah.
Pope grabs it from my hand, examining the bottle. “Who the hell is this from?”
“I don’t know…”
It wouldn’t be unusual to receive a gift from one of our business connections on a day like this, but this is quite a gift.
A small envelope with “Hawkes” scrawled across the front in elegant script lies in the plush cloth that securely held the bottle.
My hand shakes slightly as I pass Pope the box and tear open the envelope.
Congratulazioni. Be seeing you soon.
- Damiano
“Shit.” Pope’s sentiment matches my own assessment of the situation. “Should we tell them?”
We both glance toward the other side of the dais, where the rest of the family waits for the celebration to start with Uncle Savage’s speech.
Kennedy whispers something to Cass that has him grinning and pressing a kiss against her neck.
Astrid and Danika chat with Atlas and Wren, whose hand rests on her growing stomach, while Stone and Nora are in deep discussion with Isaac and Jack.
Charlotte and Viviana play with Gio near them who is working to get to his unsteady toddler feet.
Storm and Landon talk excitedly with Angelina and Alessandra holding Benjamin in her arms. Meanwhile, Luca stands stoically, scanning the crowd as intently as I have been with Byron by his side.
But it’s Coen and Allegra who answer Pope’s question for me.