We were about to untangle a mess that was of our own making. Greyson’s making.
But I’d never actually say that to him. Especially knowing what I knew about my own relationship.
I had no room to talk.
But I didn’t want to be here. I wanted nothing more than to have my woman in my arms right now. To f*ck
her until she couldn’t take it anymore and to impregnate her. It was a crazy scheme, but it was one I’d been working on for the past few weeks we’d been apart.
Every time we f*ck
ed, she forgot any willpower, she couldn’t say no to me. She took me in each time. Hell, she might even be pregnant right now.
The thought of her secretly pregnant made me groan and I knew I had to figure out my shit.
I had to get my head in the game.
I walked up to the table in the conference room of James Fitzgerald’s main office to watch this sit-down. To the outside observer, it was just two business tycoons working on a deal, but we all knew the truth.
These were two men who were hell-bent on promoting their family organization to the very top, no matter what the circumstances.
“Are we ready to discuss this?” Greyson asked. He was at the head of the table. “This war can’t go on. It’s one thing to fight amongst ourselves, but now there are children involved. My child.”
“I do not want to put my granddaughter in harm’s way,” James said. “I am willing to renegotiate if you are.”
“I am. It is a stupid fight. For what? Because we forced them together then forced them apart?” Dennis said. His brother was sitting right next to him. “I think if you can concede the disputed territory, it would be easy just to end this.”
They were talking about Brooklyn Park. Glen Burnie belonged in part to both of them, but Brooklyn was all Dennis’s territory. The space between that was what they were fighting over. What they’d always been fighting over.
“I will not give you the territory. But I am willing to allow you to have it in exchange for Cherryhill.”
“I think that is a fair assessment. You get those businesses, but we need to have access to the buildings we own there.”
“Fair, if we also get access to our buildings. And no more war.”
They’d sorted it all out in a quick arrangement. We’d been losing bodies over this shit, and they sat down, drank coffee, and came up with a plan in less than a f*ck
ing hour. It was insane.
I was pissed as hell, but there was no way I was going to say anything to any of them about it. It wasn’t my place. I was just an enforcer. Just one of the people who provided back up and made decisions only when given permission.
I was second in command under Greyson and fourth under his father, but I was still under someone.
I still had to listen to any order given to me. That was the rule, those were the terms. Even when I disagreed with them. It was annoying as f*ck
, especially when machismo ruled the business between us. So much more could get done if they could just set it aside. So many lives wouldn’t need to be lost. But then, I think, our fathers would get bored.
And we couldn’t have that.
Kathryn
“What did you say to me?” My father’s voice twisted up.
“I said I was going out. I have a big gig.” I blinked at him. It wasn’t anything controversial. It wasn’t anything insane. He knew what I was doing. When I was doing it. It was part of why I was back here.
What the f*ck
was his problem? That’s when I saw it, the giant glass of scotch in his hand. He’d been drinking.
Shit. When he was home and drinking, he was one of two things, happy as hell or pissed as f*ck
. It didn’t matter if he came home to celebrate, or whatever his reason for drinking was, he always turned into one of those two things.
Tonight it must’ve been pissed as f*ck
.
“And who the hell said you could leave my house?” he asked, his eyes constricting. When he got like this, he was more than just my father. He was f*ck
ing menacing.
And it sounded like he was looking for a fight.
“Dad, I have to go, I have this gig.” I tried to get past him, my violin case clutched in hand, but he came at me.
I was scared.
Until he grabbed my case out of my hand and opened it. That violin was one of the most important things in my life. My uncle gifted it to me for my sixteenth birthday. It was a Guarneri. One of the best instruments I could hope to have. My parents viewed my playing as nothing more than a hobby, but Uncle Patrick saw it as something more.
He was the only one who pushed me to do what I wanted.
“This stupid piece of shit? This is what you care about? Not your family. Not your parents.” It wasn’t really a question, he was declaring it. My father was drunk, but he wasn’t totally out of his mind. He knew exactly what he was doing. He always did.
So, when he pulled out my violin and smashed it against the hallway wall, he did it with such precision that it broke down immediately, collapsing in on itself.