“Our agreement is void if you fuck us over,” I interrupt. “You should be thankful I haven’t already killed you.”
Without waiting for a response, I turn on my back and retrieve a bottle from the bar.
When Carlisle returns, my siblings are still arguing, and my father is bent over Thatcher. I know he’ll make him break. I motion to Carlisle, and we retreat a few steps. He waits a few seconds before he reaches into his jacket for an envelope.
“The lead reporter on this is Noah’s brother.”
I snatch the envelope and rip it open. “You’re fucking kidding.”
Carlisle shakes his head. “He has a different last name, and there’s some kind of falling out. I reached out to some people, and he’s been working on a story about corruption.”
I rifle through the pictures, growing angrier by the minute. “Let me guess. Noah pointed him in our direction.”
“Noah has been meeting with his father a lot lately,” Carlisle adds. “We’re working on killing the story before it gains any traction.”
I nod to Carlisle. “I think it’s time we paid Noah a visit. It’s long overdue. But before we do, make sure accommodations are prepared for our guest. Mr. Thayer will be staying with us for a while.”
Until I put all of the pieces of this puzzle together, I don’t want any more fucking surprises.
Chapter Twenty
London
“It’s insane out there.” I let the curtain swish back into place, but I can still hear their voices, clamoring to be heard over each other.
Mason is leaning against the kitchen counter with a furrow between his brows. It’s been twenty minutes since he’s looked up or said anything.
I have no idea what’s happening, but the fact that we’re standing in the living room, instead of sequestered in his room, doesn’t make me feel better.
It means his father is no longer the biggest threat.
Jack Payne might be dangerous and unpredictable, but Mason knows how to handle him.
The media frenzy outside is another matter.
Mason frowns. “I’m sorry about all this.”
I frown. “Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault.”
This kind of scrutiny must be bad for business, but Mason has barely mentioned it, and I don’t want to push.
I’m not sure I want the answers.
“I’m not apologizing for them.” Mason’s expression hardens as he looks at the front door. “They’ll be gone soon enough.”
My frown deepens.
“I’m apologizing because I’m going to do something you’re not going to like.”
I take a step in his direction and pause. “Okay.”
“You’re not going to have that kind of reaction when you find out what I have to do,” Mason says.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
Mason laughs humorlessly and turns away from me. “I have no idea how bad it is, or how deep it runs, but if what I’ve uncovered is right, we’re all screwed.”
“How bad is it?”
