It wouldn’t be fair.
I know he doesn’t love me. I know it might take him months, maybe years, to get to where I am—no, there’s noway he’ll ever feel for me what I feel for him, and honestly I wouldn’t wish it on him. It’s all-consuming, and frankly, annoying as fuck.
But I wouldn’t change it.
I’d rather have my head full of thoughts of Colby every minute of every day than not know him, not have him here.
Right now the only way I can think of keeping Colby here, happy andwilling, is to tell him. He wants to know things, he wants to know everything.
The way he refused to tell me who the baker at MP was tells me he’s more than capable of keeping secrets. but that’s not why I think telling him about Harry now would be the worst idea in the history of ideas.
Twelve hours ago, telling Colby that Harrison Crawford is my cousin would have been so much simpler. If I told him now, he’d still keep the secret, that’s not the issue, but he’d hound Harry with questions that Harry would probably never answer.
I don’t know if that would be better or worse for us.
The flash of lights across my window stops every thought of Colby. No one should be driving a car right now. I’d fucking know if someone was arriving at the house.
I move on autopilot, snatch my gun from my desk, and get ready for a fight. But when I open the door to my office Isee Rory’s already there, and she’s armed and ready, watching as the big black SUV rounds the fountain then stops right by us.
“Don’t move,” I mutter to Rory. I have an idea of who’s in the car—theonlyperson it could be—and I don’t want her shooting before we get answers.
I can see the driver’s door open, but I can’t make out who the man is until he rounds the back of the car.
“Connor?” Rory asks, thankfully sounding more confused than angry.
He nods at Rory, but when his eyes move to me, I can see how determined he is.
He’ll protect them, even from me.
I never thought that not having the undying loyalty of someone from the family would bring me relief.
It’s short-lived, though, because as soon as Connor opens the back door and Harrison steps out, dressed as impeccably as he was hours ago and holding a big briefcase, I can feel Rory’s body tensing.
Harry looks back into the car and offers Iris—fucking hell—a hand to help her out. I think she was wearing something different before, but it’s all so jumbled inside my head. The only clear memories I have of tonight are of Brent and Colby.
Wearing black leggings, tan Uggs, and an MIT sweatshirt, she looks like the college kid she should be allowed to be. She sure as fuck shouldn’t have to come to a mob boss’s house in the middle of the fucking night.
Even if I am her uncle.
But fuck, she still walks as if she’s wearing a million dollar gown, as if her unruly black hair wasn’t a mess on top of her head, and when her eyes lock on Rory, I feel an explosion of pride inside me when she holds her gaze, when she staresright back.
“Evening, Aurora,” Harrison says, and barely spares her a glance. While she sucks in a surprised gasp, I realize the man standing in front of me right now isn’t my cousin.
No.
This is Harrison Theodore Crawford, the king of New York.
He walks right past me into the house and Iris follows him. Connor nods at us to go in, then closes the door behind him too.
“What, thefuck, Eian?” Rory mutters at me as we watch Iris and Harrison stop a few feet into the foyer.
I can’t look at her. Instead, I keep my eyes on Harry.
“What is this?” I keep my voice mild and detached. There’s no reason to let out all my confusion and anger.
A flicker of regret passes through Harry’s eyes before he can mask it from me, and I fear the worst.
They know.
