Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Leith
Galiene waits for me in my study, her phone, tablet, and laptop at the ready.
As I enter she rises from her chair. “Leith. I took the liberty of coming over to handle some of these affairs right away.”
Nodding, I make a beeline to the sideboard and pour a whisky.
My thoughts are riveted to the plaything waiting upstairs for me to do delicious, depraved things to.
Why did I lose my cool when I thought she’d betrayed me?
The only possible explanation is I held out higher hopes for her. Now I know I need to be on my guard.
Against myself and her.
Hence the house arrest—though that was more to make her pay the price for Aaron’s life. I never would’ve gone through with drowning her. I see that now. She managed to soften me on our honeymoon. Since I can’t seem to kill her, the next best thing is to punish her.
She affects me as no woman has. She listens to me with such intensity and asks such probing questions that I find myself opening up to her the way I do with Declan—almost as I used to do with Aaron.
But she also stirs emotions no woman ever has. The push and pull with her makes me grateful to be alive, where I never particularly valued life before. The thought of her running from me makes me feral. And the idea of any man touching her makes me murderous.
“Leith?”
“Hmm?” I realize Galiene has asked me a question.
“What would you like to tackle first?”
Too restless to sit, I lean against the credenza. “Confirming that Darian was behind the arrest.”
I was telling Iona the truth when I said nothing bothers me more than a traitor.
Galiene brings her tablet over, swipes through to something, and holds the screen so I can see it. Once more, her jasmine scent overwhelms me, and her long, loose hair tickles my bare forearm. “Declan sent me this earlier.”
I zoom in on a picture of Darian standing at the pier talking to Irving. The photo is like a punch to the gut. “Do you have a recording of what they said?”
“Sadly, no.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “It was taken from a distance.”
“Who took it?”
“Lawrie—one of Chance’s captains. He heard it through the grapevine that Irving had it in for you, and he respects you. He was surprised Darian was meeting with him.”
“Why’d he send it to Declan and not to me?”
“He didn’t want to be the direct whistleblower. He thought he should let Declan expose his own brother.”
“Date?”
“Friday the twenty-eighth.”
I scrub a hand over my jaw. “Dar may have been giving him information or permission. Either way, he likely emboldened Irving enough for him to make the arrest yesterday. No doubt he figured if I’m in prison I can hardly compete for the position of boss.”
She lays a hand on my forearm, concern fretting her features. “What do you plan to do?”
“Dar has more time and resources to throw at this vendetta than I do.” He has numerous soldiers and captains at his beck and call.
“For the time being I’m going to focus on the murder case and slamming Irving’s character.
Speaking of which, didn’t you have an article or two on Irving you wanted me to look over and approve for the press? ”
“Aye.” She brings up a couple of pieces and shares them with me. “The writers spoke with Irving’s ex-wife, a few of his former colleagues, a cousin, and Irving’s estranged sister.”
“Braw.”?1 I pull my phone out and saunter over to an armchair, taking a seat.
I review the two articles, which manage to poke a number of holes in Irving’s character.
One makes him sound like he’s desperately aiming for one last bit of acclaim before he retires—along the lines of what I guessed—and the other suggests he’s jealous of my successes as a lawyer.
The first paints him as a sociopathic scrooge, and the other as a bitter, washed-up advocate with an axe to grind.
“Well done. Tell them to print them tomorrow.”
She bobs her head, tapping away at her laptop.
“Now for the other article—the one published by Stennis.” Picturing him invading Iona’s personal space, I want to crack his neck. For now, I roll and crack my own, relieving some tension. “He refused to say who his anonymous source was. Declan and I may have more success forcing it out of him.”
Though Malcolm and Chance hold the prize for the best torturers in the Syndicate, Declan comes in at a close third, and he’s taught me some tricks over the years.
“I’ll leave that up to you.” Galiene taps her pen against her lip. “What about damage control for the article?”
“What’s the fallout?” I brace myself for the worst.
“When Declan sent that picture, he said Darian is furious that you’ve announced you’re trying to be the boss.”
I narrow my eyes. “Yet I haven’t.”
She gathers her hair behind her. “No, but he sees what he wants to see. Declan also said Diran and Callum are radge that the Macklin Whyte story is out in the open again after eight years. He said Diran will want to talk to you as soon as possible.”
I confirm this when I scroll through my texts and find two from Diran and one from Declan.
Diran: Call me.
Diran: Meet me at Banyan tomorrow noon.
Declan: Da and Callum are pissed. So’s Dar.
I shoot off a text to Diran. “I’ll be there.” Then one to Declan. “Prepare for a Q&A session with the author of the article, Stennis Gilzean.”
Declan immediately replies. “”
Galiene navigates through something on her laptop and turns the screen so I can see it.
“Your Instagram inbox has over seven hundred thousand messages, most of them asking about Aaron Frye. Others question whether you might’ve killed Wylie Annand so you could get your inheritance earlier, since according to Gilzean that was why you went into contract law.
” She bites her lower lip. “Unfortunately, Irving may use this article as a springboard to question you further.”
She’s right. Irving will leap at the chance to make me look at once victimized and grasping. And while I can deny why I became a contract lawyer, I can’t deny that Kenzie is Aaron.
“As for social media, issue a statement to the effect that Frye will always occupy a special place in my heart and it’s too soon for me to discuss him as anyone other than the Kenzie I write of in my memoir.
” This is far more than I’d like to divulge.
I clench my fist, restraining my irritation.
“Declare that the rest are Gilzean’s words, not mine.
” This will cover the contract law story, the claim that I’m trying for boss, and the Macklin Whyte story. Temporarily, at least.
I pull up Darian’s number and hit send.
“Jailbird,” he greets.
“Turncoat.” I let that sink in.
“If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” He wants me to ask him for help, so it looks as if I’m too incompetent to vie for the boss position.
“I’d rather not ask the fox to guard the henhouse,” I retort.
“Stay in your lane, Rumpole.”
I see no point in reassuring him that Stennis made up my aspirations toward boss. “Don’t get into bed with the enemy.”
He snorts. “It happens all the time in our line. But in this case you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
Darian does many things, but he can’t be bothered to lie. Maybe he didn’t give Irving his blessing after all.
“Then why is Irving acting like he has us in his pockets?” I lean back, taking a sip of my drink.
That earns me a rough chuckle. “I can’t presume to know all your enemies. Think of who has it in for you and go after them.”
“I thought I was looking at Exhibit A.”
“I wouldn’t stoop to using a fucking Procurator Fiscal to get at you, Leith.”
I believe him, though I still wonder about his meeting with Irving. “Then who did?”
He drops a lengthy pause. “Are you asking me to guard the henhouse?”
I scrape a hand through my hair. “No. I’ll figure it out on my own.”
When we’ve rung off, I take a closer look at the photo of Darian and Irving.
Darian looks engrossed in thought as Irving explains something to him, using both his hands.
If this really was taken on Friday, I can’t imagine my name didn’t come up between the two of them, regardless of what they met to discuss.
An idea pings in my brain, and I turn to Galiene.
“Find out if any of Darian’s unlicensed casinos have recently been visited by enforcement officers or local authority officers.
Ask Kion Forrest, the head of enforcement.
Tell him I’m trying to build a case for the inspection of our casinos to be streamlined for faster turnaround. ”
“Got it.” She finishes typing and looks up. “Is that all?”
“Aye, for now.” I glance at my watch. “Feel free to go or keep working, as you wish.”
“I’ll stay a bit longer. At this time of year the light coming into your home office in the evening makes me more productive.” She shows me her gleaming white teeth.
I tip my head at her and stride to the door, preparing to devour my wee flame in a few bites.
Upstairs, all is quiet as I unlock the bedroom door and let myself in.
For a moment I think Iona is asleep, but then she turns her head and looks down the length of the bed at me, her iridescent eyes gleaming in the soft, westering light.
When I see them I think of mother-of-pearl seashells.
They’re full of wisdom, spirit, and fire.
Right now they heat with carnal yearning. This is exactly the way I want her. She’s thought of nowt but me since I tied her up and left her here. No doubt her cunt is flooded and pulsating, judging by how her nipples point to the ceiling and the pulse in her neck picks up.
“Did you miss me, wife?” I saunter closer, noting how her bonnie pussy glistens with desire.