“That’s what I thought, but now I’m not so sure.”
I squeeze her fingers. “It’s out of our hands. Let Cole deal with it. I’m sure he’s got it under control.”
I lead her along the hall, only to have her pull me to a stop steps later.
“And you’re okay with not being involved?”
“I’m fine.”
“Sebastian,” she warns. “Don’t use that word.”
I chuckle. “Okay, I’m not fine. But I’m dealing with it.”
The intricacies of Cole’s plan aren’t at my disposal. He’s kept the details a tightly held secret. Yet, this morning, he had the decency to tell me I’d have my vengeance before nightfall. That his father would be dead if today worked in our favor.
It was a murmured promise from my woman’s brother.
A barely civil vow from the son of my sister’s murderer.
It’s all I have, and more than I need.
“Come on. If we don’t get moving, we’re going to miss the funeral.”
* * *
The ride to the cemetery is done in silence. Hunter drives, I ride shotgun, while Sarah and Keira sit in the back.
Expensive sports cars and luxurious SUVs are lined up bumper to bumper along the narrow cemetery street. We park at the front, claiming our reserved space as a member of the notorious crime family.
“There are more people than I expected.” Sarah unfastens her belt and scoots forward to peer through the windshield. “A lot of cars means a lot of witnesses.”
Hunter cuts the ignition and scopes the growing crowd. “Torian isn’t going to make a move at the funeral.”
“You know what’s going down?” I shoot him a questioning glance, which is quickly deflected with a look of caution.
“Everything will be handled after we leave the cemetery.” Hunt opens his door and Sarah follows, both of them keeping their distance from Torian and Layla, who wait beneath a portable gazebo, Luca and Layla’s husband standing one step behind.
I remain in place, not moving until Keira’s ready.
“He’s not here,” she murmurs. “I can’t see him anywhere. What happens if he doesn’t show?”
“That’s out of our hands. We’ve both known that for days.”
She winces, her disappointment killing me. “You don’t regret giving up on retaliation?”
“Not at all. That shit was tearing me apart. Besides, I got the better end of the deal when I walked away with you.”
She sighs and rests her head against the window as she stares across at the gravesite. “It looks like they’re ready to start.”
I nod. “Yeah, the evil glare your brother is giving me is a great indication.”
Her halfhearted chuckle fills the car. It’s all the reward I need.
It’s all I’ll ever want.
She sucks in a deep breath and releases it slowly. “Let’s do this.”
She shoves open her door, and I rush from the car to meet her.
We walk hand in hand to the crowd that parts as we approach.
“I don’t know half these people,” she murmurs. “How could they all have cared about Richard?”
“I don’t know. Business associates, I guess. Try not to think about it.”
“Business associates would make it worse.”
She’s right. But as always, I’m not the best at comfort. Not in situations like this.
It’s hard enough dealing with the constant prickle of the hair at the back of my neck. The vibe here feels wrong.
She pulls us to a stop at the front of the crowd, next to Hunter and Sarah, our position opposite the gazebo. It’s her choice not to stand near her brother and sister, and I get it. She needs to do this on her own.
Her grief is far different than theirs.
The officiant steps forward, opens a thick, leather-bound book, and begins the proceedings.
I don’t listen to a word he says. I’m too busy fighting disappointment.
I honestly didn’t think Luther would miss his own brother’s funeral. Keira had convinced me he would attend, despite all obstacles, in the face of all adversity.
Even though I’ve come to terms with being stripped of any role in his demise, the thought of him not being punished sits like a lead balloon.
But he’s not here.
Torian’s pinched face says he’s not coming, either. And he’d know.
He has airport staff in his pocket. Cops on the payroll. His own men on the streets. If he hasn’t heard anything by now, he never will.
I lower my gaze to the grass around my shoes and take solace in having Keira by my side.
She’s the prize despite the losing hand. The peace to soothe the torment.
She reaches out, as if hearing my thoughts, and grabs the crook of my arm. Her fingers dig deep. Tighter and tighter, to the point of pain.
I shoot her a glance, wondering what the claws are all about.
“He’s here.” Her announcement is barely audible, yet the anticipation rings loud as hell in my ears.
I follow the angle of her vision to see her father striding forward from the other side of the cemetery, weaving in and out of gravestones in his flawless suit and tie with matching thugs flanking him on either side.
I’ve never seen the guy in person. Only in family photos in the restaurant or online. But it isn’t hard to recognize him. He’s an older version of his son. Broad shoulders. Stern face. The guy demands respect without saying a word.
Everyone remains still as he approaches, bringing a halt to the proceedings as he greets his eldest daughter with a hug. Then Cole with a handshake.
Keira bristles at the shared affection, and I can’t help doing the same.
“It’s all for show,” Hunter murmurs. “Torian knows what he’s doing.”
I have to trust his faith because I have none of my own.
Cole is supposed to be kill the man before him. His own flesh and blood. Yet, here he is playing happy families.
I cup Keira’s biting hand and squeeze. “Do you want to go over and see him?”
“No. It doesn’t feel right.”
“I don’t think there’s a right way to feel about this, honey,” Hunter drawls.
“I know. But I thought I’d feel remorse at the sight of him.” She meets my gaze, staring back at me in confusion. “And I don’t. All I see is a monster.”
“There’s no rulebook here. And no judgment.” I wipe the stray hair away from her cheeks. “You feel whatever you need to. It’s the only way you’ll get through this.”
She crumples, her shoulders wilting as she nestles in front of me and wraps my arms around her waist.
Luther moves to stand between his children, his granddaughter before him, the goons at his back, when Torian inclines his head at the officiant to continue.
Adrenaline eats away at my veins while fabricated good deeds are recited to a silent crowd. We’re painted a story of a man who never existed. A philanthropist. A devoted uncle and cherished brother.
Over and over the lies continue, twisting my stomach and making me livid.
But I’ll have my peace soon.
The sweet taste of victory is on its way.
A few sobs ring out when the coffin is lowered a foot. Stella wails. People sniff.
I don’t think anyone really cares except that little girl. She’s the only one naive to Richard’s actions and capabilities.
My heart breaks for her. Not only did she lose an uncle, she lost a fairytale, and one day the truth will come out to reveal a reality darker than her worst nightmares.
“I’d now like to call upon anyone who would like to place petals or sand in the grave as a personal goodbye.” The officiant turns to the gazebo, offering the family the first opportunity.
Luther sidesteps Stella to move forward, away from his henchmen and toward the grave. He grabs a handful of petals as he passes, every set of eyes watching his movements. He scatters the offering, his actions delicate, then kisse
s his clenched fist and thumps it down on the coffin.
Keira jolts with the impact, her body trembling against mine.
There’s a rustle of noise behind me, and a broad, middle-aged man bumps my shoulder to break through the crowd, his enthusiasm to throw sand on a dead guy outweighing his manners.
“Watch it,” I mutter.
He ignores me and continues toward the grave. “Luther Torian?”
Keira’s father scowls at the intrusion, openly hostile at the man stupid enough to call his name.
The stranger doesn’t falter, his stride strong as he holds out a hand. “I’m Special Agent Anthony Easton, and you’re under arrest for human trafficking,” he clasps Luther’s palm and retrieves a pair of cuffs with his left, “and solicitation involving minors under the age of sixteen.”
Gasps break out in a chorus. Then whispers and growing chatter.
Keira freezes. So do I.
All of us—Hunt, Sarah, Torian, and Layla—watch in horror as the agent takes charge of the scene.
“You have the right to remain silent.”
“No.” Torian stalks forward. “Stop.”
Keira turns to me, her eyes pleading the same denial.
If Luther goes to jail, his crimes won’t end. He will hire the best lawyers. He’ll pay everyone and anyone to get him out of there. Then he’ll disappear.
He won’t go to prison.
He won’t die for his sins.
He’ll be free.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Torian doesn’t shout, he seethes, the words holding enough venom to filter through the gathering.
The agent continues without pause. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Luther’s goons approach, but so do more unfamiliar men and women in the crowd, all of them pulling badges from pockets in a mass show of authority.
“Jesus,” I hiss. They’re everywhere. “That’s the reason you didn’t recognize half these people. They’re all Feds.”
Keira grabs my shirt, clinging to the material. “Do something. Please.”
Fuck. Her plea tears me apart, and there’s nothing I can do.
I can’t save her this time. I vowed I wouldn’t get involved, and Torian knows I’ve kept my end of the deal. I won’t lose her now. Not even at the expense of my revenge.
“We’ll figure something out.” Sarah places a hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t the end.”
The agent doesn’t quit reciting the Miranda rights as he hikes Luther’s hands behind his back and leads the silent man to the long line of cars.
“Everyone move,” a woman shouts. “Make way.”
“Anissa.” Her name slips from my lips. That fucking bitch.
“Keira, you need to start making calls.” Hunter hands over his phone. “Prepare your legal team.”
“Why?” Her brows knit.
I lean close, placing my mouth near her ear. “This game is far from over. We both know he’ll get out. And when he does, he needs to know you made every effort to protect him.”
“I want to speak to Cole first.” The device trembles in her hand as she stares at her brother now talking to Anissa. “What is she saying to him?”
“I don’t know.”
I’m not sure I want to. Not when the look on her face says she’s enjoying the victory.
Keira starts toward them, and I follow close at her back, neither of us making it to Cole before Anissa saunters after the rest of her team.
“What did she say to you?” Keira demands.
“A lot of things.” His lips press tight for a moment, his anger barely contained. “She has the impression we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other in the future.”
“She said that?” Sarah snarls from behind me. “She comes to your uncle’s funeral, arrests your father, then lays more threats?”
That’s Anissa—thirty percent cocky, seventy percent bitch.
“What are you going to do?” I hitch my chin at Torian. “Apart from the legal team moving into action, what’s your plan?”
His jaw ticks, his narrowed eyes still focused on Anissa as she saunters to the mass of cars parked along the narrow cemetery road. “I’m going to give that woman exactly what she wants.”
I hope you enjoyed Decker!
Torian is coming soon.
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While you wait for Torian, make sure you check out the sinfully sexy Vault series.
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Also by Eden Summers
Hunting Her Series
Hunter
Decker
Torian *Coming Soon*
Reckless Beat Series
Blind Attraction (Reckless Beat #1)
Passionate Addiction (Reckless Beat #2)
Reckless Weekend (Reckless Beat #2.5)
Undesired Lust (Reckless Beat #3)
Sultry Groove (Reckless Beat #4)
Reckless Rendezvous (Reckless Beat #4.5)
Undeniable Temptation (Reckless Beat #5)
The Vault Series
A Shot of Sin (The Vault #1)
Union of Sin (The Vault #2)
Brutal Sin (The Vault #3)
Information on more of Eden’s titles can be found at www.edensummers.com or your online book retailer.
About the Author
Eden Summers is a bestselling author of contemporary romance with a side of sizzle and sarcasm.
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She lives in Australia with a young family who are well aware she's circling the drain of insanity.
Eden can't resist alpha dominance, dark features and sarcasm in her fictional heroes and loves a strong heroine who knows when to bite her tongue but also serves retribution with a feminine smile on her face.
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