Finally dropping onto my chair, I stared at his back until he turned to face me. “We need to buy a place that we can use every time instead of coming up with a new location for each buy.”
“The last time we discussed that, you said the bastards would find a way to infiltrate our properties to ambush us.” He leaned forward, bracing his fingertips on the desktop. “And you weren't wrong. We’d have to have twenty-four security of the highest caliber.”
“It’s not like we can’t afford it.”
“Who would we use? Barrett? Brennan? Do you even trust anybody enough for that type of monumental job?”
He was right about that. I trusted my blood relatives and Gio. If I were honest, I trusted Lorenzo Mancini because he’d never given me a reason not to. But I still double-checked whatever he did for me.
Trust but verify.
And the rest of the world could go fuck itself. I didn't trust anyone outside of my extremely limited circle, and for good reason. If someone decided to rat me out, I’d either spend the rest of my life in prison or find myself strapped to the electric chair.
I’d sooner eat a bullet.
And, of course, there were others who would be happy to make that happen for me. Death was always the easier option over prison or, God forbid, making a deal to save my sorry ass.
“Maybe not,” I finally said. “Maybe it’s a terrible idea and we need to keep doing what we’re doing.”
“I’ll let you know when I hear from Lorenzo.”
“Thanks.”
He left, and I watched him go. Clearly, he would never struggle to talk Vicki down from one of her epic tantrums. It took more to rile her than it did me—a fact that never failed to annoy me—but when she was pissed, the whole city would know about it. I hadn't seen her have a meltdown in a while, which might be because she’d had to worry so much about our father’s health recently. She was more subdued than usual, which benefitted us all.
Checking the security cameras, I saw that the sedan was gone, meaning Dad was alone again. Rising, I removed my suit jacket and draped it over the chair before heading down the hall.
Time to eat crow.
Dad was in the same spot he always was these days, eating a bowl of soup. Some old black and white played on the TV at low volume, and I felt reluctant to interrupt him.
“Dad,” I said quietly as I approached the bed.
“Noah.”
“I need to apologize.”
“Agreed.”
Fuck me, he wasn't going to make this easy, was he?
“I shouldn't have let her get under my skin like that.”
“Sailor is the one you should apologize to. You had no right to put your hands on her.” Finally, he looked at me. “If you had scared her off, I would never forgive you.”
Holding my tongue, I tried to regulate my thoughts so they wouldn't show on my face. He’d really choose her over me?
“That wasn't my intention. Besides, she clearly doesn't scare easily.”
“I told you to leave the matter alone, but you just had to sic someone on her, didn't you?”
Tucking my hands in my pants pockets, I nodded. “When it comes to you, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
“And while I appreciate the sentiment, you have to lay off.” Setting the bowl on his side table, he added, “You found out she does exactly nothing with her life, didn't you?”
“It seems so.”
“Is that what really made you angry? To learn you’ve been wrong about her?”
