“You’ve got us,” I promise. “For as long as you want.”
“Forever, then.”
“Forever works.”
We stay on the couch until Donovan calls us for dinner. When I stand, Samantha’s hand stays in mine, and I realize something that settles deep in my chest.
I spent a year hiding my condition because I thought it made me weak. Thought admitting I had a problem meant I couldn’t handle the dangerous side of the family business. That Dad and Donovan would see me differently.
But lying in that hospital bed, seeing their faces when I woke up, I realized they didn’t care about weakness or strength. They just cared that I was alive.
And now, walking into dinner with Samantha beside me and my medication sitting openly on the counter instead of hidden in my room, I understand what I was really afraid of.
Not that they’d see me as weak.
But that they’d care enough to make me stop living recklessly, and I’d have to admit I wanted to live more than I wanted to prove I was invincible.
41
DONOVAN
New Year’sEve arrives with clear skies and temperatures cold enough to freeze the champagne if we left it outside.
I’m in my office reviewing the last quarterly reports when Dad knocks and walks in without waiting for permission. He’s carrying two glasses of whiskey, which means this conversation is going to be either very good or very bad.
“We need to talk about Volkov,” he says, handing me a glass.
I set down my pen and lean back in my chair. “I figured we’d get to them eventually.”
“Robert was their inside source.” Dad settles into the chair across from my desk. “They were using him to gather intelligence on our operations. Now that he’s gone, they’re going to realize their pipeline dried up.”
“And they’ll either come after us directly or cut their losses and move on.” I sip the whiskey, thinking through scenarios. “What’s our current exposure?”
“Limited. Robert didn’t have access to anything critical, and most of what he knew is outdated by now.” Dad pulls out his phone and slides it across the desk. “Davis sent this an hour ago.”
I scan the message. Volkov’s been quiet since Robert disappeared. No movement toward our operations. No inquiries through their usual channels. Either they’re planning something, or they’ve decided we’re not worth the trouble.
“They’re testing us,” I say. “Waiting to see if we make the first move.”
“That’s what I think too.” Dad takes his phone back. “Question is, do we let them wonder or do we send a message?”
I consider the options. We could strike first, eliminate key players in their organization, and send a clear warning that we’re not to be fucked with. Or we could arrange a meeting, establish boundaries, and make it clear that Robert was working alone and his connection to us died with his departure.
“What does Kai think?” I ask.
“He thinks we should blow up their primary warehouse and call it a New Year’s gift.” Dad’s mouth quirks. “But he’s on medication and not allowed to make strategic decisions right now.”
“Smart policy.” I finish my whiskey and set the glass down. “I say we arrange a meeting. Neutral territory. Make it clear that Robert’s betrayal was his own stupidity, and we had no part in whatever intelligence he was feeding them. Establish boundaries. If they respect those boundaries, we coexist. If they don’t, then we handle it.”
“That’s what I was thinking too.” Dad stands, pocketing his phone. “I’ll reach out through our mutual contacts. Set something up for mid-January. Give everyone time to cool down after the holidays.”
“Works for me.” I stand and button my suit jacket. “Are we telling Samantha about this?”
“Eventually. But not tonight.” He heads for the door, then pauses. “Tonight’s about celebrating. The business can wait until tomorrow.”
He’s right. We’ve spent weeks dealing with Robert, with Kai’s collapse, with Samantha’s revelation. Tonight should be about looking forward instead of backward.
I finish up the last of my work and head to my room to change. By the time I make it to the main living area, the sun is setting, and someone’s already started a fire in the massive stone fireplace.
