“This is the last time they pull this shit. I want their company ruined,” I hiss, curling my hands into fists against the cool glass. “Find out what it’ll take to buy them. Then once we have them, we can tear them apart and sell the pieces.”
Jones chuckles, because when it comes to business, he loves nothing more than an opportunity to do what he does best. Be vicious, like a shark after blood. Be the type of moral-free lawyer that I pay him millions per year to be. I’ve learned money can erase most people’s morals.
Tate joins Molly, laughing about whatever it is they’re finding so funny, and my attention drops to the ID badge, flapping around against her shirt with each vibration from her chest. That ridiculous pink shirt that’s barely keeping her ample breasts contained. The ID swung against them as we walked from reception earlier, with an irritatingpat patsound that’s still ringing in my ears.
“Consider it done,” Jones declares. “I’ll call you when I have an update.”
“Appreciate it,” I reply.
My cell rings on the desk as I hit end call on the desk phone.
“Dad?” I answer, swiping it up.
“Hello, Son. Everything okay? How’s Molly?”
One side of my mouth curls up as her dark curls bend low over the desk and she concentrates on the picture she’s coloring in. She’s always the first thing on my father’s mind whenever we speak.
“She’s good. She’s coloring.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t watch her today.”
The regret in my father’s voice brings a lump to my throat. I know how much he means that. He’s always helped as much as he can with Molly. So has Sinclair. But since the arson attack at his club that put Halliday in hospital, and Sinclair’s car being vandalized, and her receiving threats, they’ve both been pre-occupied.
We’re the Beauforts. We’re family. And family always comes first. But I’m Molly’s father, so ultimately I’m the one who needs to care for her. I don’t regret my decision to keepher out of daycare until pre-k. But with recent developments, and now losing Arabella for the foreseeable future, it does pose a new challenge. Beaufort Diamonds won’t run itself, and I have a responsibility to everyone that the family’s legacy is upheld. This will all belong to our next generation one day.
“It’s not a problem,” I tell my father as I walk to the glass wall of my office, pushing a hand into my pants pocket as I watch Molly.
“Hallie’s excited to have her tomorrow,” my father says.
“Molly’s excited too.”
“We’ll pick her up early. Hallie asked if you could pack her bathing suit. She was going to take her for a swim.”
“She’ll love that.”
Molly’s looking at Tate, who’s admiring her picture and saying something that makes Molly giggle. I roll my lips, pissed at myself that I kept the sound system off while I was on the call with Jones. If I hadn’t, I’d be able to hear every word of what’s making my little girl so carefree and happy.
“And Thursday evening, I need to move some things around a little, but?—”
“It’s fine,” I cut in.
Molly was meant to be spending the night with Sinclair this week so that I could have my regular Thursday evening off. But I’m not comfortable with Molly being there overnight until we know more about the threats Sinclair’s received.
Sighing, I stare through the glass. Part of me feared this day would come.
“I’ve been thinking about hiring someone,” I confess. The words feel alien and wrong as they form.
“At least while Arabella is with her mom. And only for the occasions when one of us can’t have Molly. And I’d base them here, where I could keep an eye on them,” I add.
“I see. Do you want me to ask Killian to look into agencies?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
I don’t want one of our family’s security team going to some faceless agency and sifting through their on-paper credentials. Arabella has been working for our family business for over twenty years. I trust her judgment. And I also trust our company’s vetting procedure of anyone who does any work for us. Even if that’s just some waitressing at a PR event.
My eyes fall on red hair, catching the light in the opposite room. Arabella has known Tate since Tate was a child. And she’s a kindergarten teacher. Molly’s going to start pre-K once she turns four. It’s a little over a year away. This is just… moving up the timeline a little.
“You’re sure about this?” my father asks.
