Sinful Empire (Mount Trilogy #3)

“I only need a few minutes. Please. This is important. Believe me when I tell you I wouldn’t be asking to leave his side if it wasn’t.”

Something gets through to him, either in my words or my tone, and he nods before holding up a finger. Basically, the universal gesture for hold on a second. He leaves the room and returns moments later with the nurse who told me not to rip the IV from my hand.

“Do you need something? What’s wrong?” The nurse looks from me to Lachlan.

“I need you to unhook me. I have to make some calls. It’s incredibly important.”

She narrows her eyes. “Did Mount approve this?”

“Do you want to be the one to explain to him why you won’t follow a simple order? Because at this point, I promise you that he’ll consider denying my request to be tantamount to denying his.” My tone invites no argument, and each word is backed with confident authority.

My statement knocks her back on her heels, and she deliberates for less than a minute. “Give me a moment to unhook you, ma’am.”

The respect in her voice is undeniable. Her movements are quick and efficient as she removes the leads from my chest and unhooks my IV.

“You don’t need this anymore, but you better tell him you made me take it out, or I’ll have hell to pay.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can handle him.” I glance at V as he silently waits for me. “Go handpick someone to take your place outside the room. Someone you trust with his life.” I jerk my head at Lachlan’s sleeping form.

V nods at this command, once again holding up a finger before disappearing.

I’m on my feet, more unsteady than I want to admit, when he returns and leads me out of the room. I don’t recognize the two men outside the door at first, but I know I’ve seen them before.

They’re the ones who caught Lachlan when he fell.

“Leave him unattended for even a second, and I’ll kill you both myself. Do you understand me?” I make the threat without hesitation, and the shock on both men’s faces is nearly comical.

Somehow, I’m less surprised that I gave the order than how good it feels to give it. At this point, I’m willing to follow through on a lot of things I never expected to consider. I sold my body to keep my family and friends safe. Now, I’d sell my soul to keep Lachlan from harm.

“Yes, ma’am. No one will get through us,” one of the men replies.

I give them both a nod, and they return the gesture with deferential respect.

The shifts just keep coming.

I’m no longer a prisoner. I’m the consort to the king.



“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for freaking ever,” Temperance says in lieu of a greeting.

My head aches as I hold the phone to my ear, but I push the pain away. “There was an unforeseen delay in my return from Dublin. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get in touch before now.” I’m proud of how professional my bullshit excuse sounds, and the fact that my voice is steady.

“Unforeseen delay?” Her tone is skeptical, at best.

“Fill me in on what’s happening first so we can triage, and then I have things I need to tell you. Things that you can’t repeat to anyone. And I mean anyone.”

My assistant goes quiet. “Keira, does this have to do with the chauffeur you suddenly acquired a couple weeks ago?”

It doesn’t surprise me that she noticed V driving me, but I am surprised she hasn’t brought it up until now.

“Yes, but first, business. Then I tell you the rest.”

Temperance launches into the list of things that require my attention, all stemming from the announcement of the Spirit of New Orleans taking home a prestigious award. An award that I now think might have saved me by taking the brunt of the bullet after it left Lachlan’s body. It would make the most sense given the laceration they glued shut on my right side, which was where the glass bottle was sitting in my lap and is probably still in the shot-up car. None of which I’m going to tell Temperance.

“So, the press wants a statement and a release date for sale to the general public. The tourism board wants to know how quickly we can start tours because of the press interest. Your dad wants to know how the hell you found the money to go to the GWSC. Oh, and every distributor we have wants to know when they’re going to be able to get their hands on it.”

I take a slow, shallow breath, cognizant of my weakened state, and give myself two seconds to absorb all the information and center myself back in CEO mode.

“Write up a press release. Tell the news outlets that the Spirit of New Orleans will be released in a limited and exclusive launch very soon, and we’ll be sending them bottles in advance so they can write reviews themselves.” I pause. “Tell Jeff Doon that we’re making arrangements based on best practices I learned at a distillery that conducts tours in Dublin, and as soon as we have all safety measures in place, we’ll be ready to launch. Also tell him that we’ll expect him to coordinate with the press so they’re the first to experience New Orleans’ latest attraction.”

“I like it, boss. Making all the notes.”

“Okay. Distributors—make sure they get the same press release, and tell them we’ll start taking their orders in advance, but we’ll expect partial payment to hold them as we expect to sell out of the first batches in a very short time.”

“Ohhh. Ruthless. That’s even better.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I’ve learned from the best, but I hold it in. Instead, I take another moment to acknowledge how much Lachlan has changed me. The confidence I’ve gained in myself and my authority isn’t a coincidence. He made me believe in myself, and that was just another chink in the walls that came crashing down from around my heart. I smile, feeling more like a CEO than I have since the day the desk in the basement became mine.

Which brings me to the next issue.

“I’ll deal with Dad myself. I don’t want him, my mom, or my sisters coming here under any circumstances.”

Temperance goes quiet on the other end of the call. “Does this have to do with the other things you need to tell me?”

For a moment, I wonder at the wisdom of divulging what I’m about to share, but Temperance needs to be prepared. Based on what I know about Lachlan Mount, as long as there’s a threat out there against him that could potentially spill over to me, there’s no way he’s going to let me go back to living my normal, or even a semi-normal, life.

“Yes. And I need you to swear on whatever you consider holy that this goes in the double vault. Sharing anything I tell you could quite literally cost you your life.”