“Malakai, this is a serious matter. Your age is showing.”
I laugh without humor, “Out with your ideas, Iwan.” I click my fingers, “I don’t have time for this.”
“We require something on her.” He speaks.
“Collateral.” Hank inputs so helpfully.
“What?”
“Something that we can keep on her that will keep her quiet should anything happen.”
“You suspect my wife will betray me?” I ask.
“She is not part of this lifestyle; we cannot simply trust her word.”
“I will not be putting my wife through any kind ofinitiation,” I growl to the room, “And it is not a topic I will discuss further.”
“She is married to a murderer,” Stefan buffs his nails on the breast of his suit jacket, “Perhaps it’ll be fitting to have her kill for you. It would be good material to keep her in her place.”
My anger begins to boil, simmering under the surface of my skin as it slowly heats and heats.
“You expect me to tell my wife she has to murder someone so you can lord it over her head for as long as she lives?”
“She is a woman,” Iwan tuts, sitting down and reaching for the whiskey on the table, “She’ll do as she is told.”
“You’ll keep my wife and her name away from this table, and out of your mouths.She is not up for discussion.”
“Then explain to the council how you ensure yournew wife won’t betray you or us.”
“You forget I have her family on a string.” I spin my glass, bones physically aching from the restraint I am holding myself under.
“It is not enough. You are putting this organization at risk because you’re weak for a pretty face,” Hank comments.
Sebastian’s spine goes ramrod straight, his eyes falling to Hank, filled with a cold quiet fury that I mirror. He subtly begins to reach beneath the table, likely for the gun he has strapped there but I catch his eyes and shake my head.
“We all see it,” Hank smirks, “Just see what happened on your wedding day. Ended early because your wife’s feelings got hurt over a little spilled wine. All we are asking for is a little protection.”
“If my wife betrays me or this organization,” I grit out, “I’ll kill her myself.”
I know, not even that, will satisfy them, and all I’m doing is solidifying their dislike for me. I see my cousin smirking, a look of satisfaction on Hank’s face as unease rumbles through the room. It doesn’t matter and I don’t care. I’ll have to be dead for any of them to take this from me.
They don’t know what I’ve done, how I’ve secured this seat and this organization. I could annihilate them all with ease without question.
I’ll kill them all, consequences be damned.
“Stage it,” Someone suggests and at this point, that simmering anger has turned to boiling but they’re too blind to see they’re pushing me to an edge none ofthem will come back from, “Have her attacked with no option but to kill them. It looks like an accident, we stay safe.”
“Are you really suggesting I have someone attack Olivia?”
My grandfather slams a fist against the table, surprisingly hard enough to rattle all the glasses, “That’s enough!” He snaps, “Malakai has spoken, he has given you your answer, and as your leader, and the man between you and those fat bank accounts that you think keep you protected, that should be enough to end this conversation. Your damn disrespect is showing. Olivia will not be brought up again and should I hear another whisper of her name at this table, I’ll kill you myself. I’m an old man, I have nothing to lose, so please, test my word.”
Chapter Eighteen
I jump onto the couch, sinking into the mountain of cushions, the pile of snacks between me and Willow scattering.
“God, this is too good,” Willow howls with laughter, “He actually caught you fingering yourself!?”
My cheeks burn at the memory even if my anger at him far outweighs my embarrassment, “Yes.” I grumble.
