8. Chapter 8
REESE
The Sinclair estate is exactly what I expected. It’s at least fifty acres and a main house that belongs in one of those architecture magazines. But it already feels different than my father’s house ever did.
Tate’s hand rests on my thigh. His thumb traces circles on the jeans that Ivy let me wear so I didn’t have to meet Dane Sinclair in baggy sweatpants.
I just keep focusing on Tate’s hand. The thought of meeting his father makes me unable to sit still, and even though I’m nervous as fuck, my body responds to him.
He ate me out as soon as we woke up and then again before we left.
You’d think I’d be satisfied, but I press my thighs together and try to focus.
He glances at me as he parks. “It’s going to be fine, baby girl.”
I am about to meet the man who runs the Talons, one of the most powerful members of the Council, and if he wanted, he could make me disappear in two seconds.
“He could decide it’s easier to kill me.”
“He’s not going to kill you.” Tate turns off the engine and faces me, his green eyes dark. “He’d have to go through me first. And my father is smart enough to know that’s not a fight he’d win.”
The certainty in his voice does something to me. He means it. He would go against his own father, his own family, the entire fucking Raven world, for me. Not because he owes me anything. Just because I’m his.
No one has ever chosen me before. Not this way. Not once in my entire life.
And I realize what I’ve already suspected. I love him. I love Tate Sinclair.
Tate’s hand slides higher on my thigh. “I thought I reminded you who you belong to this morning.”
“Yes.” My breath catches as he brushes his fingers against my covered pussy. “You did.”
“Don’t think I won’t eat my pussy in my father’s driveway.”
My pussy clenches. This man could have me on my back in three seconds and he knows it.
“We should go inside.” My voice comes out breathier than I intended.
“We should.” But he doesn’t move. His eyes drop to my mouth, then lower, tracing down my body with an intensity that makes me want to squirm. “If you look like you need to be reminded when we’re inside, I won’t hesitate to spread your legs, baby girl.”
He pulls back and opens his door like he didn’t just make me wet with a few sentences. I take a breath and remind myself that I’m about to meet his father and make some fucked-up plans.
I love him for trying to keep me calm, in a manner of speaking, through it all. Fuck. I love him for so many things.
He opens the door of his McClaren for me and gives me his hand to pull me out. I grab him and push him back against the car kissing him as hard as I can. I hope he knows what I’m trying to tell him, even without saying the words, not until the time is right.
“Fuck, baby girl.” His body is hard beneath mine, and he grips my ass pulling me closer. “I don’t know how I’m going to get anything fucking done.”
“We’re waiting for you in here.” Fox appears on the steps waving us toward the door.
“Fucking cockblocker,” Tate mutters as he clasps my hand and pulls me with him.
The inside of the house surprises me. I expected cold and formal, which is the way my house felt growing up.
But there are photos on the walls and fresh flowers on the entryway table.
Huge paintings of each of the Sinclair sons run up the walls along the double grand staircase.
There is also a painting of a beautiful woman after Thorne’s.
I assume that’s Sloane Marsh, Whitney’s daughter.
Along the other staircase, there is a painting of Dane and Whitney and another of Fox and Ivy.
I’ve never known a family quite like theirs in my world. Tate watches me stare at the portraits and squeezes my hand before pulling me through the foyer into a room with couches placed around a huge stone fireplace.
Fox takes his seat beside Ivy on one of the couches. They all left the cabin before us. Then Tate had decided he needed his head between my thighs again before we could leave.
Ivy catches my eye and gives me a small nod, and some of the knots in my stomach loosen.
Then I see the man who stands near the fireplace and everything in me goes tight again.
Dane Sinclair is exactly as intimidating as his reputation.
He’s tall, broad, and built like a man who could still kill with his bare hands even pushing fifty.
It’s easy to see where his sons get their good looks and strength.
Silver threads through his dark hair, and his green eyes are the same shade as Tate’s—the same shade as all his sons.
He’s watching me approach with the expression of a man who’s deciding whether I’m worth the trouble I’ve caused.
The woman at his side is a bit more welcoming. She’s blonde, blue eyed, and gorgeous. Whitney Sinclair. I remember the gossip about her auction three years ago. The whole Raven world talked about how much Dane paid for a widow who couldn’t even give him more children.
Knowing what I do now about the Sinclairs, I understand why he paid it.
“Dad.” Tate’s voice is steady, but I feel the tension in his arm as we move closer. “This is Reese.”
Dane doesn’t move. His gaze sweeps over me once, then lands on his son.
“You want to explain why I’ve spent several days lying to the Council?”
“I think you know the basics of it by now.”
“Son, this is not how we do things.” Dane’s voice could cut glass. “You went dark for days. You ignored my calls and put this family at risk without telling me a goddamn thing.”
“And I’d do it again.” Tate pulls me closer to him. “I would think you of all people would understand that.”
The room goes still. Fox’s jaw tightens. Thorne, slouched in the corner with his phone, stops pretending to scroll.
Dane’s eyes narrow. His gaze drops to where Tate’s hand now rests possessively on my hip, then to the way I’m pressed against his son’s side. I watch him put the pieces together.
“I see.” The words come out rough.
Father and son stare at each other. I don’t know what’s passing between them, but I can feel the weight of it.
“You should have told me.” Dane’s voice loses some of its edge, but not all of it.
“It wouldn’t have mattered.”
“Like hell it wouldn’t. Do you know what I’ve been dealing with?”
Tate’s grip on me tightens. “We needed time. And no one was going to take her from me. Not even you.”
Thorne lets out a low whistle. Fox looks like he’s trying not to smile, as Ivy reaches over and squeezes his hand.
And Dane Sinclair, probably the most powerful man in the Raven world, looks at his son like he’s seeing him for the first time.
“Well.” Whitney breaks the silence, her voice warm and amused. “Dane, stop interrogating them and let them sit down.”
“I’m not interrogating anyone. I need to understand exactly what the situation is here.”
“You’re doing your scary patriarch face. It’s very intimidating. We’re all very impressed.” She crosses the room and takes my hand before I can react. “I’m Whitney.”
“I—” I glance at Tate, not sure how to respond to that. “I’m Reese.”
Dane gives his wife a stern look. “You’re going to pay for that, kitten.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” she fires back.
I look away, not sure what to think about their display. Tate notices and flashes me a smirk.
“Sit down, baby girl. We need to talk about what happens next.”
Whitney guides me to the sofa across from Fox and Ivy and settles beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost touch.
Tate drops onto my other side, his thigh pressing against mine, his arm stretching along the back of the couch behind my shoulders.
Thorne stays standing, arms crossed leaning against the window, watching everything unfold.
Dane remains by the fireplace for a moment longer, studying us. Then he moves to the center of the room.
“Fox filled me in this morning. We already knew that Jenson Donaldson had been running his own operation outside the Council’s approval.
But we haven’t procured the proof we needed to bring him down.
” His gaze flicks to me. “There is no need to discuss the details. I already know enough to agree that the man needs to be put down.”
I release a sigh of relief. I really didn’t want to discuss the worst parts of my life with Tate’s father.
I glance at Tate, and the guilt rises in my chest knowing I haven’t told him all of it. I trust him enough to tell him, I just don’t know how to find the words.
“His life ends as soon once we get him where we want him.” Tate’s arm drops from the couch to wrap around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “Slowly. Painfully. And then we do the same to every other man on the list.”
“That’s not a complete plan. That’s you playing out your need for vengeance.”
“Isn’t that what I’ve done for you many times over? For Whitney? For Fox?”
“Tate.” Dane’s voice sharpens. “I’m not saying Donaldson doesn’t deserve to die, or that he’s not going to die. I’m saying we need to be smart about it. He’s a Council member. There are other issues at play here, and we have to do this right so it doesn’t point back to us.”
“We have that covered.” Fox leans forward. “We know when to grab him, where to find his files, and we know how to get rid of his body.”
“That’s all well and good. I know you all know how to get that job done.” Dane waves a hand. “But you are forgetting a very critical piece of this puzzle.”
“Which is?”
“Her.” Dane’s gaze lands on me, and I force myself to meet it. I’m surprised to find it’s not cruel but almost sympathetic. Then he focuses on Tate. “Do you think she can just walk into the Raven mansion on your arm and no one is going to question where she’s been for the past several days or why?”
“So we set up the Talons to find her.” Tate shrugs. “You can have me join the search, and we can follow an anonymous tip to somewhere she’s being held.”
“That handles the short term.” Dane’s expression doesn’t change. “But there’s a bigger issue. Even if we take Jenson out, someone else would lay claim to her.”
My body goes rigid. “What?”