I know my eyes are cartoonishly wide. “Wh- what?”
“Specifically, your perfect little pussy,” he growls before leaving the room.
Weakly leaning against the wall, I fan my face.
Sweet Lady Gaga, who have I married?
***
That turns out to be the best moment of the morning.
Downstairs a cacophony of noise, saws blaring, nail guns sending out percussive ‘thumps!’ and workers bustling everywhere, cleaning up the rubble and removing the rest of the broken furniture. Lachlan is standing next to a man I don’t recognize, installing something into the door of the study.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“A biometric lock,” he says, watching the man closely.
“This door is already steel-reinforced with a top-of-the-line locking system,” I say sharply, “we didn’t discuss this.”
He takes my elbow, pulling me away from the onlookers. “None of that stopped those men last night, did it?”
My lips press together as that old nagging pain starts circulating in my cerebellum. “I'm aware. But that room is so well-reinforced that they had to blow a hole in the exterior wall to get in.”
“But they did. Even this is just a stopgap measure, wife. We’ll need to talk about how to handle the liabilities later, in private.”
I know he’s referring to the fact that my father’s been storing up secrets like a squirrel with nuts for winter for the last four decades. Secrets that could spark wars. Secrets that could kill people. Lots of people.
Marcus joins us, handing me a glass of juice. “What are you wearing?”
Looking down, I shake my head. “My husband’s monstrously huge t-shirt. Because he thinks I’m flashing so many sexy bits that I’m distracting our highly trained security staff.”
Marcus is not on my side. “Well, you have such a peachy ass that it’s almost enough to turnmestraight. Almost.” He walks off, just slightly swishing his own ass as he passes Gregor.
“Traitor,” I mumble.
When the biometric lock is installed, I head into the study to see five security guards watching the construction crew closely.
“Monroe and Jerome told me this crew was already vetted,” Lachlan says. “I had my own team in here all night.”
The sliding panels leading to the secret room are perfectly intact, there’s no way to tell they’re anything but part of the wall. I’m grateful that the entrance wasn’t damaged during the attack last night. The thought of all our secrets laid bare to the kind of murderous people we do business with is terrifying.
The speed the construction workers have is impressive. They’ve already laid the cinderblock center, there’s a stone mason cutting blocks to patch the outside to match the rest of the house and I can hear the saw in the hallway as they cut drywall to cover the cinderblock and wall studs.
Damn.
“We should have Zed here to talk about the security measures,” I say, picking up a cloth to wipe down the dusty surface of the desk.
“Why?” Lachlan shrugs, “He won’t be takin’ over and we both know it.”
Narrowing my eyes, I stare at him as I call out, “Can everyone please leave the room? Actually, clear everyone from this section of the house and grounds.”
The study’s empty within thirty seconds.
“What are you talking about?”
He’s lounging on the couch, one arm over the top, and looking infuriatingly calm. “Were we not lookin’ at the same man last night? Your brother nearly wet himself when he told you aboutwhat your Da was up to. Ya’ know he can’t handle this. He dinna want to.”
“It’s- it’s his,” I stutter. “It’s his responsibility.”
