by Eden Summers
“I have no problems with my distribution, Costa. And no interest in aligning with anyone I don’t trust. So unless you have something else to offer, I’m going to have to politely decline and be on my way.”
“You have no problems now. But who’s to say things won’t change?” His smile fades with his rising brows. “Especially if you’re using the same strategies as your father. He always tended to be generous with sharing information when he had a few too many drinks.”
Is he threatening to shut me down? To rat me out?
I bark a laugh. “What do you want?”
“A partnership.” Those white veneers flash at me again, bright and fucking sickening. “I want in on your little slice of heaven and to expand the playing field beyond your wildest dreams.”
No.
This guy wouldn’t know the first thing about the drug trade. And expansion isn’t for chumps like him. It takes a lot of balls to claim someone else’s territory, and when this guy has come to me for help instead of trying to take for himself, it’s clear he doesn’t have a decent set.
“I want what your father promised me.” His tone loses any hint of civility as he opens a desk drawer, retrieves a sheet of tattered paper, and slides it toward me. “And this is what I’ll get.”
I take the scuffed offering to read my father’s handwriting, my jaw tightening with each new line of text.
“Luther promised you an arranged marriage with one of my sisters?” I place the informal signed contract down on the desk and eye the letter opener within reach. “And you think that’s going to happen? We’re not living in the eighteenth century.”
“I’m afraid I’m at a point where I must insist.”
His sons return to the room, hands clean, faces impassive as they reclaim their soldier positions behind a man who’s soon to die.
“Marriage is the best option to ensure an unbreakable agreement.” That indulgent fucking smile doesn’t fade. “We are both going to make more money than we ever dreamed possible. And generations to come will praise us for it.”
“Thanks for the generous offer.” I push to my feet. “But I’m not interested.”
Maybe if he’d come to me a year ago. Before my father’s degradation was exposed. Before those fucking kids were stolen. Before Anissa became everything.
“Well, you should be.” His tone deepens, losing the edge of delirious kindness. “You seem to be in over your head, Cole.”
He stands, leaning forward to rest his knuckles on the desk. “There are rumors your father is dead. Killed by his own son, no less. I’m sure it would be harmful if that information were to begin circulating. Especially with the loyalty Luther demanded. It wouldn’t just be those children you’d need to worry about. It would be your sisters. Your men. Your entire empire.”
I clench my teeth, the pain radiating into my skull. “Is that a threat? Because I take just as kindly to those as I do to theft.”
“Of course not.” He skirts the desk to walk toward me and rests his ass against the closest edge. “I’m merely pointing out that you may have taken a path you need help to retreat from. I’m that help, son.”
I have no response. Not unless it involves snatching that fucking letter opener and slamming it into his throat. But I wouldn’t get close before his sons filled me with bullets.
“Layla is already married.” I force a placating smile. “And Keira is committed to one of my men. So, unfortunately, your sons will have to find their own unwilling brides.”
“How about you?” Salvatore speaks for the first time, his voice graveled. “From what we’re told you’re still unattached.”
I sneer at him. “You want to marry me, asshole?”
Remy grins, the curve of lips quickly disappearing into a tight line.
“He’s referring to a match with my daughter,” Emmanuel clarifies. “Abri would be well suited to a man like you.”
My fingers itch to claim a gun I don’t have. To pull a trigger that’s nowhere in reach. “Again, that’s a generous offer. But an arranged marriage isn’t something I’m interested in. And I’m sure your daughter would feel the same. Now, if you’ll bring the children back downstairs, we’ll be leaving.”
Silence reigns as the three men stare at me. The sons with eagle eyes. Their father with demented optimism.
“I understand where you’re coming from.” He remains perched on the desk, crossing his feet at the ankles. “However, I think your father would be disappointed in me if I didn’t push for this opportunity. So I’m going to insist you take a night or two to think it over. Speak to your family. Contemplate the success. I’ll continue to look after the children until you’ve had a chance to consider this more thoroughly.”
21
Anissa
Penny covers her mouth with a shaking hand as she stares at my cell sitting on the coffee table, the muffled conversation from the four-way phone call filtering through the speaker.
Keira is pale beside her.
Layla quit reacting a long time ago. She’s now catatonic. Apart from the relieved cry she released at the sound of her daughter’s voice, she’s sat in shock, the only sign of life coming from her blinking eyes and trembling fingers.
At first, I hadn’t known why Hunter called me. There was no greeting. Only silence. Then Cole’s voice filtered through, announcing something about a ‘penthouse’.
For long minutes, we’ve sat listening to his exchange with Emmanuel. We heard Stella’s excitement. Vaguely made out a murmur from Tobias. Through it all, I’ve battled not to excuse myself to the bedroom to secretly call for backup. Well, I had, until Cole’s conversation with Jordan.
Now it’s too late.
The person who drove the kids to Sacramento is dead and the man I slept with last night is responsible. There’s no requesting FBI support for that. There’s no longer a claim to innocence in this situation.
“He’s trying to force an arranged marriage?” Keira asks. “How is this even a thing?”
Layla closes her eyes. “How can you be surprised with everything else our father has done?”
She’s right. This isn’t as shocking as it should be.
It’s sickening, though, the sinking sensation leaving me cold.
Only yesterday I’d convinced myself there might be a way to further indulge in my feelings for Cole. To somehow make it work between us. This is a slap in the face to those ignorant wishes. A shaking of my reality to show just how different our lives are. This archaic, arranged marriage only cements the extremes.
“What are we going to do?” Sarah stares at me, waiting for an answer.
“Let me listen.”
The call has gone quiet, the conversation seeming to vanish mid-threat.
“Why aren’t they talking?” Keira reaches for the phone. “What happened?”
I claim the cell and raise it to my ear.
There’s nothing. No sound. No hint of static.
I unlock the screen and my heart drops. “The call ended. Either Cole disconnected or Hunter kicked us from the conversation.”
“Why would that happen?” Penny stumbles to her feet. “What could possibly be worse than what we already heard?”
“He would’ve accepted the arranged marriage,” Layla whispers. “He would’ve given his word to get my daughter out but wouldn’t have wanted anyone to overhear him bowing under pressure.”
Bile screams up my throat.
This wasn’t meant to happen.
“Everything will be all right.” Sarah reaches for Penny, dragging her back down to the sofa. “Cole needed to say whatever necessary to bring those kids home. But we’ll fix it afterward.”
Keira shakes her head. “If he commits, then he won’t back out. He doesn’t give his word without meaning it. Not even to his enemies. He either plans to marry this woman or has every intention of killing her to nullify the agreement.”
“No,” I blurt. “He could’ve lied.”
They all look at me. The sis
ters with pity. Penny and Sarah with confusion.
“He plays games and manipulates the truth. He won’t go through with it. Once he has Stella and Tobias, he’ll pretend none of this happened.”
“Maybe he’s done that to you.” Keira cringes. “And I apologize on his behalf, but this is business. In your world, there are contracts and legal documents to outline agreements. Here, Cole’s word is his bond. He won’t go back on it. Otherwise he’ll never be trusted again.”
My heart twists.
He’d given me his word. He’d promised to make us work. To figure out how we could indulge in this crazy compulsion between us.
I guess I should count myself lucky the universe is acting as my handbrake when I can’t keep my grip on the wheel.
“Try not to panic.” Sarah gives me a pointed look. “The kids are what matter right now.”
Keira wrings her hands in front of her as she stares at the carpet. “Aligning ourselves with this family after what they’ve done is a horrible idea. Betraying them could be even worse.”
My stomach churns. “I have to use the bathroom.” I escape into the main bedroom, closing the door behind me to focus on not losing my shit.
I need space. Air. Clarity would help, too.
This is what I should’ve wanted all along. Having a valid reason to distance myself from the temptation of Cole has been a huge issue for me. No, not a valid reason. I had a million of those all along. But this would act as an immovable stop sign between us.
A definitive brick wall.
So why does it feel like Armageddon is approaching? Why does this growing ache inside my chest resemble heartbreak? For him. For what he’s going through.
I breathe through the searing burn in my lungs and shake off the instability. I need to forge ahead. Focus on Stella and Tobias. It’s not the time to wallow.
“They’re on their way back,” Sarah calls out moments later. “They should be here in five.”
I scramble for the doorknob and launch out of the bedroom. “All of them? Are they okay?”
Sarah raises her cell, showing me the tiny text on screen. “That’s all I know—We’re on our way back. Should be there in five.”
Layla remains catatonic on the sofa, slowly rocking back and forth.
Keira continues to wring her hands, squeezing her fingers.
Penny bites hard into her lower lip, staring into space.
I’m not helping here. Why am I not helping?
“The kids are coming home, ladies. This is good news.” I force positivity into my voice and walk to the closest sofa. “We need to get our things and prepare to leave as soon as possible. We’re going home.”
Nobody moves. Not even Sarah.
I crouch before Layla, placing my palms on her knees. “Stella’s on her way.”
She stares at me. Stares right through me.
“The weapons and tactical equipment are the only things that need to be packed,” Sarah murmurs from the sofa behind me. “And I’m not putting my fingerprints on those. It’s best if we wait here.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere either.” Keira stands, hugging her arms around her waist. “Let’s just wait.”
I rub Layla’s knees, waiting for a response that doesn’t come.
She’s deathly quiet, yet those eyes scream with foreboding.
“It’s okay. They’ll be here soon.” I don’t know what else to say to break the building silence. There’s no encouraging chatter. Not even nervous tears. The room is still and unsettling as I sit on the carpet, one palm remaining on Layla’s leg.
I sink into the uncomfortable void, consumed with selfish thoughts of Cole when Sarah pushes to her feet.
“They’re here.” She starts for the hall. “Hunt texted that they’re just about to get in the elevator from the underground parking lot.”
My heart races, the arduous pace disrupting my stomach to the point of nausea as she walks from view, the swish of the penthouse door opening moments later.
I can already picture the reunion. The gasps of relief. The happy tears. The hugs and kisses… Then Cole.
I imagine meeting his eyes again and how I’ll react. How he’ll react. Will he care about my response to an upcoming marriage? Will he arrogantly expect me to be his mistress? Will my obsession for him have me stooping that low?
It takes an eternity for the elevator to ding in the distance. A lifetime of suffering before we all stand. Layla pushes to her feet before me to rush to the start of the hall. Keira follows close behind. Penny only takes a few steps and I remain in place, unmoving.
I don’t hear the patter of kiddie steps over the thud of heavier feet. The thump, thump, thump is dooming as Cole strides into the open area, his expression stony. Hunter and Benji follow in single file.
“Where are they?” Layla shoves between them to clear her view down the hall. “Where’s Stella?”
Nobody replies.
My throat constricts.
Their faces say it all, especially Benji’s, with his nostrils flaring and eyes watering.
“Where are they?” she repeats. Louder. Frantic.
“They’re still with Costa.” I barely recognize Cole’s voice. It doesn’t hold a hint of his usual confidence.
“You left them there?” Keira rushes forward.
“You left Stella with those monsters?” Layla shrieks. “How could you?” She lunges for her brother, striking out, pummeling his chest with closed fists. “How could you?” she screams. “You heartless piece of shit.”
Nobody attempts to stop her. Not even Cole. He stares straight ahead as she assaults him, his shoulders stiff, his chin high.
“I fucking hate you.” Her voice wavers with the punches. “I’ll never forgive you.”
“That’s enough.” Hunter moves between them, grabbing Layla’s wrists. “He had no choice.”
“He had every choice in the world. How could he leave them?”
I don’t take my eyes off Cole. I keep watching his masked pain, breathing in his resilient suffering, feeling helpless to do anything but stare.
“Layla, you need to calm down.” Keira walks up behind her sister, placing gentle hands on the thrashing woman’s shoulders. “We have to figure out what comes next.”
“I know what comes next,” she wails. “Somebody has to go in and get my daughter. Someone who isn’t willing to turn their back on my innocent baby girl.”
She jerks free and lashes another strike at Cole, the meaty slap clapping across his face. Benji steps forward, trapping her arms to her sides with a bear hug before walking her backward.
“We’ll figure this out.” He keeps moving, forcing her to retreat as she cries in protest. “We’re going to get her back.”
She crumples, her knees buckling. Benji lets her drop to the floor, her sobs building for unending minutes while the rest of us remain silent. It takes forever for the tears to fade into hiccups, the sniffles transforming to ragged breaths as she curls into a ball to bury her face into her knees.
Nobody says a word.
There’s no clarification. No strategy talk. No plan. Everyone appears transfixed with grief.
“What happened?” I break the awkward quiet, willing Cole to look at me.
He doesn’t answer. He barely bats an eye as he walks for the bedroom, ignoring me to close the door.
I start after him.
“Don’t,” Hunter warns. “Give him space.”
I want to argue. To fight to be with Cole. But that’s selfish. My response is all about me, not him.
“Where are the others?” I ask. “Where’s Decker and Luca?”
“Watching Costa’s apartment from a nearby rooftop.” Hunter glares at me, maintaining his hatred. “We’re going to need these rooms for a while longer. Sarah, can you—”
“I’ll call reception.” She nods and strides for the kitchen to snatch up the penthouse phone, asking to extend our reservation.
After she hangs up, the thickening tension bu
ilds around us. The unsettling awkwardness is stifling. I want to go after Cole. To comfort him. To ask questions. But I won’t add to his burden.
“Do you know what happened?” I ask Benji. “What was agreed upon?”
“Nothing was agreed upon,” Hunter replies. “Torian isn’t committing to anything. Not yet.”
“They want in on the drug trade—that much is clear,” Benji adds. “Torian’s buying himself time to figure out why they’re taking this strategy.”
“Buying himself time? My daughter is still in there. In the same place a man was just murdered by her uncle.” Layla pushes to her feet. “She’s gone through hell and Cole left her there. Left his only niece.” She wipes the tears from her face with her forearm and sniffs. “I think we all know the reason he paused.” Her gaze turns to me, accusing and spiteful. “He didn’t agree to marriage because of you. You’re what’s stopping me from getting my daughter back.”
I frown. “No.”
Cole wouldn’t do that. Not for me. Not at the cost of Tobias and Stella’s suffering.
“Calm down,” Hunter warns. “There was no choice but to leave them. He’s not going to give his word on a threatening agreement that could kill us all in the long run.”
“He’s right.” Keira’s forehead wrinkles. “But I think Layla is, too. Cole has never walked away before. Not from something like this. He would’ve stayed and negotiated.”
I keep shaking my head. “This has nothing to do with me.”
I’m ignored.
“I swear it doesn’t,” I add steel to my tone. “There’s no way Cole would walk out on those kids for me.”
They have to believe it’s the truth.
I have to believe.
Because otherwise I’ll fracture.
Nobody has ever risked anything for me. Nobody but my parents, and now they’re gone. I’ve made a life on my own. I’m independent. Isolated.