He pushes off the desk and straightens. “What matters is whether they move. You let this sit, then you give them room to think the Stones aren’t a force anymore. You move decisively, and everyone recalibrates.”
I exhale slowly and nod once.
“Alright,” I say. “We do it clean. No noise. No spectacle.”
Vin watches me for a beat, like he’s weighing something. Then he nods.
“Good,” he says.
I glance at my hand, flexing my fingers despite the sting. “We move soon.”
Vin straightens, already shifting into motion. “I’ll make the call.”
As he pulls his phone out of the breast pocket of his shirt, he looks up at me.
“For what it’s worth,” he says, “this city’s been waiting to see which Stone would show up next.”
I meet his eyes. “They’re about to find out.”
I cross my arms and focus on a single food vendor on the street. Vin doesn’t stir.
Then I turn around, reach for my jacket, and put it on as if it’s my armor. Work isn’t done yet.
“Alright,” I say finally, my voice cold. “Take care of it. And you make sure everyone knows why.”
I straighten my cuffs as my mind’s already working out the logistics. “Put Beau in charge. He can keep her__”
Vin cuts in, his tone sharp, “Not Beau.”
I stop and look back at him. “What?”
“It has to be you,” he says, stepping closer. “If you delegate this, it looks like you’re insulating yourself. Like you don’t have the stomach to get your hands dirty. Boudreaux will see that and so will everyone else. If this isabout showing the city who’s in charge now that Robert is gone, Ridge, then it has to be you. No one else.”
I hold his gaze as the weight of it settles in.
My father trusted Vin. Always had. Trusted him to see what others missed. To say the things no one else would.
He’s right.
If I don’t do this myself, it won’t carry the same weight.
The idea of dragging an innocent woman into this war sits like a cinderblock in my gut, but this business has never been clean. And it has never been fair.
If I’m going to run my father’s business now, I will have to make difficult decisions. This may be the first, but it won’t be the last.
The stakes are too high to pretend otherwise. My father taught me to do what has to be done, even when it costs something.
“Fine,” I say after a long exhale. My voice stays steady. “I’ll do it. But the second we have her, this moves fast. We hit them hard, and we don’t stop until my father’s death is answered in a way no one can ignore. And then we let her go.”
Vin’s expression doesn’t change. He just nods once.
“That’s the way,” he says. “People will think twice next time.”
The room goesquiet when I walk in.
It isn’t completely silent, but everything goes still.
The air smells like burnt coffee and cigarettes, the residue of a long day spent putting out problems. Conversations die off one by one as my brothers turn toward me, each of them waiting to see what I’ll say.
