She pales in comparison to mam.
“Please,” she says, eyeing me.
“More manners than your daughter,” I say. “I’ll give ye that.”
I can almost hear Cal’s warning snarl in my head, even though he doesn’t utter a sound.
But there’s an inkling of respect in her gaze. It’s threaded with dislike, but I’m not aiming to charm, I’m aiming to prove a point. My blood burns and my fingers itch to touch Molly again.
I refocus.
“I had a proposal in mind,” I say.
“You mafia types are all the same,” she snaps. “This isn’t one of your draconian marriages. He just wants the appearance of a good wife. I’m not sure he’s interested in sleeping with her; he’s shown no interest in moving up our arrangement. Of course, if you find my husband, then things might ease up and change.”
“Like,” I say, “her marriage?”
“That might get called off, yes. Marlowe is a respected ballerina and moves in circles your lot don’t—or can’t. She’ll open doors and her vast inheritance and trust fund will become his. She gets it all at twenty-seven, or on her twenty-fourth birthday if she’s wed. Or rather, her husband gets it,” she amends.
She’s paying off the debt with a reputation maker, door opener, and dowry. I don’t know what the debt is, but this smacks of organized crime.
It’s stupid, convoluted, and something a privileged woman would do. And irrationally, I want to upset her apple cart. Irrationally, I want to save Molly, someone I don’t actually hate, lust aside.
“You don’t want her in the wrong hands.” I smile.
Her eyes narrow in that moment, just like her daughter’s. “I don’t want her near anyone from the cartel. Or around unsavory men. This…man has a level of respect, but he wants the final coating. But that isn’t your business.” She holds her folder out. “Marlowe’s safety is your business. Keep her from straying, protect her, and the job’s yours. We’ll negotiate fees?—”
“We will,” Callahan says smoothly.
I nod. “You have some issues, as does your husband. Those issues bleed. I can look into those, too.”
“Just keep my daughter safe, and if you can, find Heston. But Marlowe’s protection comes first.” She folds her arms. “If I need help on the other things, I’ll let you know.”
I smile again. “Twenty-four-seven means her with me, and the world seeing us as a unit—not me protecting her for a job.”
Cloris looks at us all, but her suspicious eyes finally come to rest on me. “What do you propose?”
“I have an idea,” I say with a smirk.
“Are you sure?” Seamus asks me later. “There are easier ways.”
“Says the man who married Ava Volkov.”
“Careful now.” He fists a hand.
I hold up mine. “I love Ava, like a sister, even though she’s the most vicious woman I’ve ever known. And yes, I’m sure. We simply set this up as a legit arm of the business.”
Cal and Torin exchange a look.
“Separate,” Torin says. “We could launderthrough it.”
“You’d pick up jobs when this is over, or hire people?” Cal taps his hand on the desk he’s leaning on. “We could use this.”
“Cloris says if we keep Mol—Marlowe safe,” I say, “and find and bring back Heston, she’ll elevate us.”
Seamus rolls his eyes. “We don’t need a big corporation, which is always dirtier than us, doing any elevating.”
“I want to prove myself, Cal.” I look at my brother. “Look at the threats.” I flip the folder open. “They’re downright creepy. And I saw the ones against Cloris, too. But right now, I’m just focusing on the daughter and the husband. They could be connected. Get what you want by threatening the daughter in the form of a creepy fan.”
