Lauren's voice was flat. Thomas was rigid with fury, face pale as he ushered her into their suite and she carefully leaned on the table, arms folded as he made himself a drink.
The minute MacGowen introduced himself at the party, Lauren fought the urge to vomit on his shoes. She'd shaken this man'shand, she'dlikedhim- and this was the psycho who raped girls and stabbed her husband in the back. Literally, and now her fear was figuratively as well. He'd tauntingly shaken the hands of Numbers One and Three before holding out his hand to Thomas with a grin. "What, Williams? No hug after all these years? I thought we Eton men were forever comrades?"
Lauren watched, paralyzed with horror. What would Thomas do? This creep stabbed him, the son of a bitch! But her husband was made of sterner stuff. With his usual indulgent, indifferent smile, Thomas looked the smirking intruder up and down, before clearly finding him lacking and turning away.Nice...Lauren thought with misty admiration. No one could be as cuttingly dismissive as her spouse. Thomas walked away calmly, leaving MacGowen with his hand out and smirk beginning to slip. Taking her elbow, Chuck followed after his boss.
Various members of Bratva attempted to stop the couple as they left the nightclub- to say goodnight, or for the wives, another chance to fondle Lauren, and most movingly was Clara, who hugged her hard. "We'll talk tomorrow," she whispered in Lauren's ear, "we'll talk and figure things out. We stick together, no matter what." Kissing Clara's cheek in gratitude, Mrs. Williams ignored the giggles from the Bratva wives.
Now watching her husband sip elegantly at his glass of Scotch, Lauren bit back a growl. "I know this is bad, Thomas. But how bad? Bad like we need to get the jet fueled and leave tonight bad?"
"Don't be silly, darling." Yes, Thomas Williams, the terrifying Number Two of Jaguar Holdings was at his most arrogant and infuriating. "I do not 'run' from anything. I brokered this partnership. And I will not allow that stupid bastard to interfere." But he was pacing the room, one hand loosening his tie.
"Thomas. Please." Lauren knew that her tone was irritatingly yearning, that the fact that she loved the man who made her marry him was likely humiliatingly obvious. But they were together in this, and she wouldn't let him shut her out. "How could that little troll possibly be here? Associated with Mogilevich and the whole St. Petersburg leadership for Bratva. This is a setup; we both know it. What am I missing here?"
For a moment, she was certain her cold, composed husband would order her to go to bed, but then Thomas paused in his pacing with a sigh.
"MacGowen is my brother."
Lauren knew her mouth was open and closing like a goldfish, but she couldn't help it. "WHAT?"
Making an impatient movement with one hand, Thomas clarified, "My half-brother. My father's legitimate son," he added mockingly.
"Oh, god," she whispered, "your own brother stabbed you? What kind of a sick-?”
Thomas steamrolled over her, apparently intent on getting the conversation finished. "My mother was a secretary in MacGowen Equities and apparently caught Mitchell's eye. She was soon pregnant with me, and he pensioned her off into a little flat with a monthly payment. My mother," his mouth twisted, "was quite content with this arrangement. Mitchell came by every now and then, primarily to fuck her." Lauren winced, she couldn't help it, and his eyes narrowed. "Crass, I know. But accurate."
"So, your father," she wanted to throw up again, "knew what that little bastard did when he stabbed you and he still covered for him? Against his other son?"
"Ah, darling. You are incorrect," Thomas smiled mockingly, "I was the bastard. Mitchell paid for my education at Eton, but insisted it be delivered under the guise of a scholarship, which earned me quite a bit of scorn from the wealthier students. Educating me as agreed, but punishing me for it."
"What a son of a bitch," Lauren whispered, so angry she wanted to stomp out of the room and punch someone. Anyone. "So that's why he hates you so much? Because you're the smarter, better son?"
"Well," Thomas allowed, "there is more."
"Of course," she mumbled, ignoring his stern glance. "What happened?"
"When I graduated from Cambridge," Williams continued, "I rose to the second position in The Corporation quite rapidly. One of the first moves I made in our Mergers and Acquisitions Department was buying out MacGowen Senior and Junior from their own company using a shell corporation. The two thought they had a fat payoff, and never mind who was left to pick up the pieces. Neither ran the company well, they were relieved to be free of it before it collapsed." He took another drink of Jameson before continuing. "They also had incompetent attorneys, who did not read the purchase agreement thoroughly enough. A few small, insignificant clauses that seemed to mean nothing until they were in default. Senior and Junior both lost everything, I broke the company apart and paid off the employees well. They were most supportive of the sale."
Lauren grinned; she couldn't help herself. "Is it wrong that I'm like, incredibly happy about this right now?" Thomas paused to kiss her, smoothing his hand over the back of her head.
"I do believe you have a savage streak that I was unaware of," he said approvingly, pressing his lips to hers again.
Kissing him back, the girl let herself just feel for a moment, enjoying the movement of his heartbeat against her cheek, the scent of her husband's cologne and his big hand stroking through her hair. "So, Junior has a lot to be bitter about. But from the way Mogilevich talked, it seemed like they're best buddies- like he's known MacGowen for years." Lauren swallowed heavily, wishing she could have a gulp of that glass of Jameson. "Does this mean that your creepy as fuck half-brother somehow..."
"Engineered this partnership?" Thomas finished her thought. He rubbed his forehead. "They did approach us first. I took point on brokering the deal."
"This also explains the weird jokes about family," Lauren said dismally. "And you said that Number One was part of that conversation?" She felt a chill as her husband's beautiful eyes turned polar blue, like a sheen of ice had frozen over him.
"Indeed," Thomas said thoughtfully. "And Ben insisted I take a wife." For a short, hysterical moment, Lauren almost burst out laughing at his peculiar phrasing, though it was quite accurate in their case. "Another bit of leverage to hold over me." He looked down at her sweet face and the heart he was certain did not exist cracked painfully. "I have put you in danger in a way I could not have anticipated. I was so certain I could protect you from anything, I-"
Rising on her tiptoes, Lauren kissed him, one of the few times she'd ever initiated kissing the beautiful, scary man who'd made her marry him. "For better or for worse, Thomas," she reminded him. "None of that... anyway, it doesn't matter now. We're in this together and you have to count on me, all right?" Then, the strange thing that the Bratva wives said in the ladies' room came back to hit her full force and her stomach dropped like she been punched. "There's more I have to tell you though," she said regretfully. It wasn't bad enough that her husband had just had the worst revelation in history, now she had to add to it? "When I was in the restroom, a couple of the wives came in- Romanoff's wife and I think the Queen Bee." She swallowed as his eyes narrowed in that 'get on with it' kind of way he had. "They said something strange about me, Zia asked if they could keep me afterward."
She didn't think her husband could be more frightening than when he was angry but now the permafrost that seemed to cover him was terrifying. "They dare-mywife?" Thomas growled. All of his exquisite enunciation and polish was gone, and he sounded more like a street thug ready to stab someone in the throat.
Lauren forced herself to not back away and answered, "I don't know, that's all they said before someone else came in. I hid in the stall until they left, hoping someone would say something else." Despite her best efforts to remain the cool, focused wife of an international crime lord, tears rose in her eyes. "This is really bad, isn't it, Thomas? They want to hurt you, or-" Her voice chopped off in a sob. Of all of the times at the beginning of their married life that she had imagined the man dead in various horrible ways, the stark reality of it was something very different. Thomas blinked and seemed to come out of the polar state that had held him immobile for the last few minutes.
Putting one big hand on each of her wet cheeks, he smiled down at her. "No, darling they will not hurt me. This is not the first time I have been in a double-cross, and there is always another plan."
Running one hand anxiously up and down the starched cotton of his shirt, Lauren asked, "But this time that asshole- uh, Kingston is in on this. He knew about the family connection, all those weird jokes?" Thomas was silent for a moment, and she could tell he was struggling with what to tell her. It was against his basic DNA to release any information other than what was absolutely necessary. But she was looking up at him with such faith, when had anyone ever looked at him like that, once they knew what he really was? "What can you tell me, Thomas? Let me help."
