My mother’s lower lip began to tremble, and she looked as if she were trying to melt into the back of her chair.
Anthony smirked. “Little girl’s got a big mouth to go with those tits. Heard about the arson. Thought that woulda taught her to mind her own fucking business.”
I was halfway out of my chair, but Sloane was faster. She leapt to her feet and wielded the useless knife at him, drawing audible gasps from the tables nearby.
“I’m a librarian, asshole,” she said. “Everything is my fucking business. Because of you and your dysfunctional relationship with your son, I almost lost friends. So if you think for one second that I’m going to let you sit there and threaten us, then you’re an even bigger idiot than your son.”
“Thank you for your input, Sloane,” I said, removing the knife from her hand and setting it on the tablecloth. “You’ve been warned by my woman. Now you’ll listen to me. Take your hands off my mother, and get the fuck out of here. If I ever see you anywhere near me or anyone I care about, I’ll drop you where you stand.”
Anthony stood and smoothed a hand over his jacket. “You might have cash and class, but I got something you never will.”
“Questionable fashion sense?” Sloane guessed.
“Killer instinct. I know when someone’s outlived their purpose, and I ain’t never once been afraid to end their journey. You have forty-eight hours to give me everything the feds have on me along with a few million in reparations, or I’m gonna start ending journeys,” he said menacingly.
My mother was crying silently. Sloane was vibrating with rage next to me.
“You have that same forty-eight hours to get your affairs in order, because by the time I’m done with you, there will be no journey left to end. I will dismantle your business, your life, your family, your fucking face. And I’m going to enjoy doing it,” I said.
My mother reached for her water glass with shaking hands. Sloane, however, was looking at me like I’d just rescued a litter of puppies from a flood, shirtless.
“Dunno. From where I sit, you’re the one at this table with the most to lose,” he said with an insipid smirk.
“When you have everything to lose, you’ll do anything to keep it,” I said darkly.
Anthony snorted, then slapped the table like it was a bongo drum. “Forty-eight hours. Can’t fuckin’ wait.” He turned to my mother. “I’ll be seein’ you soon, doll.” Then his gaze centered on Sloane. “But I think I’ll be seein’ you first.”
“Gee, that’ll be tough after I claw your eyes out,” she said with a feral smile.
Anthony pointed his fingers at me like a gun and mimed pulling the trigger.
Sloane lunged, knocking over a water glass and sending several sets of utensils to the floor.
I hauled her back into my side. “Easy, Pix.”
Together we watched Anthony Hugo slither his way out of the restaurant. With the snap of a finger, four men in suits followed him out.
Sloane breathed a sigh of relief. Meanwhile, my mother was slumped in her chair, one hand covering her face. Everyone in the entire restaurant was staring.
“I didn’t know we were getting dinner and a show.” The amused comment came from none other than Maureen Fitzgerald, who looked both angelic and sinful in a glittery cocktail dress the color of champagne.
“Wow. Killer dress,” Sloane said.
“Now is not the time, Maureen,” I told her.
“Oh my God. You’re Maureen Fitzgerald?” Sloane whispered.
“The one and only,” she said, winking at Sloane. “After witnessing Anthony’s little hissy fit, I thought I’d stop by your table and offer my services.”
“What services might those be?” I asked, holding Sloane by the wrist and texting my security team with the other hand.
“I might have some information that can help you with your problem.” She nodded toward the door Anthony had exited.
“Not here,” I said.
“Of course not. Tonight. Your place.”
“Be careful,” I cautioned.
“I’m a woman. I’m always careful.” Her gaze skipped my mother and landed on Sloane. Her smile warmed. “It looks as though Lucian’s tastes have significantly improved.”
“Your skin is flawless,” Sloane whispered.
I rolled my eyes. But Maureen patted one cheek with feminine pride. “Thank you. She’s a keeper, Lucian. Try not to ruin it.”
I grunted and nodded at Grace when she entered the restaurant. “Let’s go.”
Grace led us through the kitchen to a service elevator in the back. The staff didn’t even blink as we made our way past prep stations and fiery grills.
My mother sagged against the elevator wall when the doors closed.
“I don’t understand what happened,” she said, bringing her hands to her cheeks. “All I know is I was humiliated.”
“I apologize for embarrassing you by preventing you from being the pawn of a madman. Anthony Hugo is a criminal who would have no qualms about making you disappear just to get to me.”
“It’s always about you. Every man who shows any interest in me is just trying to get something out of you,” Mom whispered bitterly.
“That man is a thug. He’s had people killed for far less than what I’m doing. And you think that’s all right because he treats you like some kind of trophy?”
“Your father wanted to hide me away. He never wanted anyone to acknowledge that I existed.”
“This isn’t about the past. This is about your safety right now.”
She fluttered her delicate, birdlike hands in front of her face. “I can’t discuss this with you right now.”
“We’ll discuss this now. Do not answer his calls. Do not go anywhere with him. If you see him anywhere, leave immediately. Grace, I need you to—”
“Beef up the security detail on your mom. Got it,” she said grimly.
“And now you’re telling me where to be and who to see. Controlling everything. What I do, where I go, what I spend. You’re just like him,” Mom whimpered.
“Right now, I don’t give a fuck, Mother.” I saw the flash of pain and the blur of movement. The crack of her hand against my face rang out.
Grace made a move, but Sloane got there first and shoved her way between us. “Excuse me, Kayla!” Fury was a fire that lit her up from the inside. She put her finger in my mother’s pale, dignified face. “You do not ever, ever lay a hand on him like that again. After everything that you two have been through, you hit your son for protecting you from a certifiable sociopath? That’s insane.”
“That’s enough, Sloane,” I said, resting a hand on her shoulder.
She was vibrating against me.
“It’s not nearly enough. You have the worst taste in men. Anthony Hugo is a walking red flag, and you invited him to dinner. Oh, and if you want to spend your money on whatever you want, then get a fucking job, lady. You only get to be a victim for so long before you have to evolve into a survivor,” Sloane continued.
“You don’t understand what it’s like,” Mom said with a tearful whisper.
“I wanted to be nice to you, to have empathy for poor, victimized Kayla. But that was two decades ago. You’ve had twenty-plus years to grow up. Yet here you are, all those years later, still perfectly comfortable playing the victim. Still accepting your son’s checks because you’re too fragile to stand on your own two feet. He doesn’t owe you, lady. You owe him. For every time he stepped between you and the man you chose over him. For every time you made him responsible for your choices. I’m trying not to blame you for that, but you’re making it really fucking hard.”
Sloane was shouting now. My head of security was nodding in agreement.
“You are not to have any contact with Lucian until you can apologize for every shitty thing you’ve done to him,” Sloane announced.
The elevator doors opened into a parking garage. Both my cars were waiting, engines running, and half a dozen of my security team were stationed outside.
My mother gasped and hurried out of the elevator.
“Enough,” I said quietly.
But Sloane wasn’t finished. “And another thing. Go to therapy!” she called after her.