“Why not?” he asks. “It’s his fault.”
“Parker. Not the time.” Nate’s voice is gruff enough that my brother falls silent. When he turns those dark eyes on my father, the older man shrinks back at the intensity in them.
I’ve been on the receiving end of that same stare more often than I’d like — I know exactly how Dad feels, at the moment.
“Care to share how you’ve managed to piss off the entire Irish mob?” Nate’s words are clipped, totally controlled. Not an ounce of emotion slips out. “Mac made you his business for a reason.”
My father tugs at his collar in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. When he collapses back into his leather swivel chair a few moments later, I just about fall over.
Milo West, showing weakness? Unheard of.
“I’ve made some mistakes,” he admits, voice choked.
Parker laughs darkly. “Understatement.”
I glare at him.
“Why does Mac expect a commission from you?” Nate asks, pinning my father to the spot with just the force of his stare.
“I don’t know.” Dad’s face is flushed. “My development project has nothing to do with him. He doesn’t own the land.”
“Not in name, maybe.” Nate folds his arms across his chest. “But that whole area is Bunker Hill gang territory. Everyone knows that. It’s the reason the waterfront has never been developed. No one will touch Mac’s land with a ten foot pole.”
“Until now,” I add softly.
“Only way a deal like that goes through is if there’s some kind of arrangement in place,” Nate says in a deadly soft voice. There’s more danger in that gentle tone than I could muster screaming at the top of my voice.
When Nate yells, you know he’s pissed… but when he whispers, you run and don’t look back.
Milo shifts uncomfortably. “What exactly are you accusing me of, Nathaniel?”
Nate’s eyes have a lethal gleam as he steps closer to the desk. “You got into bed with MacDonough.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but my father pales even more. “No,” he whispers, though it’s a weak denial.
“I’ve been looking into things. Every building constructed in that part of town in the last twenty years without Mac’s blessing has either been burned to the ground, vandalized beyond repair, or run out of business because people are too afraid to go near there.” Nate’s gaze never wavers. “You’re a smart man, Mr. West. You’d never have poured so much money into this development project unless you had assurances that he wouldn’t give you problems.”
“Christ,” Parker mutters from somewhere behind me. “Perfect. Fucking perfect.”
“How much did you give Mac?” Nate asks flatly.
My father sits there silently, too proud to lie and too weak too admit the truth out loud.
“Oh my god, Dad.” I stare at him. He won’t meet my eyes. “Tell me you didn’t do this. Tell me this is some kind of mistake.”
He swallows, staring resolutely at his desk. “I didn’t think it would turn out like this.”
“What? You thought if you made a deal with the head of Boston’s biggest crime family, things would go well for you?” Parker’s voice is incredulous. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What did you promise him?” Nate’s voice is colder than I’ve ever heard it.
A defeated sigh moves through my father.
My father.
The idealist. The self-made billionaire. The prince of the people. The philanthropist. The entrepreneur who truly cares about the fate of his fellow man.
What a load of horseshit.
God, I’m a fool for ever believing in him.
“If you care about your children, tell me.” Nate’s hands come down on my father’s desk with a sharp smack. Milo jumps at the sound. “I can’t protect them if I don’t know what I’m up against.”