Shifting uncomfortably in the short, tight dress Liam chose for tonight, I gaze out the window toward the restaurant we pulled up in front of. “Are they open?” I murmur, observing the dark windows.
“For us, they are.” He leaves me with that cryptic response, getting out of the limo and walking around the back to open my door. As much as I don’t want to reach out and take his hand, I know there’s no choice. I have to comply, because a man withhis means could make my life even more of a nightmare than it is now.
Besides, part of me is kind of interested in seeing what comes next.
As it turns out, the restaurant is open, with a few lights burning to lead our way through an empty dining room and into a small banquet room in the back. This room is fully lit, and at its center a single round table is already surrounded by men in dark suits who turn almost in unison to watch us enter arm in arm.
Once we reach the table, I realize I recognize everyone here. I’ve never met them, but there were nights I would watch from the upstairs windows as they arrived at the house. Dad’s guards would pat them down before they came inside for dinner or drinks. I know their faces, their smirks. Disgust makes my skin crawl as they study me. Some men just have a way about them.
“Good evening.” Liam is all business, pulling out the chair for me and sliding it closer to the table before taking his own seat at my left hand. I’m the only woman here. Only a woman would understand how that feels, especially in the presence of men like these.
The man sitting directly across from me—tall, burly, with deep-set eyes that pierce me from a distance—clears his throat. “We’re all sorry to hear about your dad,” he offers. “It’s a terrible way to go.”
The younger man sitting to his right snickers softly. “Good thing you weren’t there when the fire broke out. Where were you, anyway?”
Liam slams his water glass onto the table, and the sound is like the crack of a gun. “I called this meeting for us to get to know each other. Not for you to plague my wife with pointless questions.”
“So it’s true.” I think the gray-haired man’s name is Giorgio. I remember hearing Dad talk about how old-school Giorgio is. Trustworthy. “The two of you are married.”
“We are married,” Liam confirms, “and the Blackwell businesses now fall under my ownership.”
There’s a moment of profound silence, which doesn’t come as a surprise. If only they understood I know exactly how they feel. He has surprised me, too. Under the table, my nails sink into my palms so I won’t scream.
“You have to be joking, right?” The man across from me—Tommy something or other, I think—forces a laugh, and soon he’s not the only one.
“Come on. Do you think you can just sit down and announce some shit like this?” Giorgio folds his hands on the table after nudging away a plate heaped with various meats and cheeses from the platter in the center. “You’re young, so you probably don’t understand how this kind of thing is done. There has to be a vote on certain things. The men who worked under Donovan all these years get a say in this.
“You don’t get to just sit down and announce you’re taking over,” he concludes with a chuckle, not unkindly. But there’s something patronizing about it, and I can almost hear Liam’s hackles rise.
“I am the husband of Donovan Blackwell’s only child.” Liam is even, calm. I wonder if he’s practiced this before and decide he probably has. He leaves nothing to chance. “And as of thirty minutes ago, all of his accounts were signed over to me. I control all of his assets.”
“But not his business.” Tommy taps a fist against the table. “None of us agreed to work with you.”
“You will. You all will.” He speaks with the same confidence he had earlier today. “If you don’t, every single one of you willfind out what happens when your dirty deeds are aired for the whole world to see.”
He nods toward Giorgio. “Are you still taking those secret flights out to Thailand? They’re a lot more lenient out there when it comes to certain activities, aren’t they?”
He barely waits for color to rise in Giorgio’s cheeks before turning to another one of the men. “How is that second family treating you? Exactly how much do you think your wife could sue you for when she files for divorce? And exactly what do you think her five brothers would do to you if they found out? Two of them have done time for manslaughter, right? Or was it three?”
While the men sputter and exchange fearful glances, he continues. “I know each and every one of you, even if this is the first time we’ve ever met. I know who you are; I know what you provided to Donovan while he was alive, and I know what you will provide for me now that I’ve taken control of his businesses. And if you don’t, I will burn you to the ground. It’s as simple as that.”
He knows how to make a point. I’ll give him that. And part of me likes watching these big, so-called powerful men trying not to shit themselves while they process what they just heard. My gaze moves over the table while they struggle to keep it together.
Finally, Tommy speaks. “Fine. I’ll go along with you.”
His attention lands on me before he adds, “If I get one night with your wife over here. I always did wonder if she’s as good as she looks.”
Bile rises in my throat. I’m barely able to swallow it back, especially thanks to the way he stares at me, unblinking, his eyes narrowing in a suggestive way. Like he’s imagining it. What a pig.
But Liam? Liam doesn’t move. I don’t even think he breathes. What is he thinking? What will his response be?
“I do appreciate your candor.” He chuckles softly, but I hear the growl running underneath it. “So that’s all it will take for you? One night with her?”
With a lift of one thick shoulder, Tommy replies, “That’s it. Take it or leave it, kid.”
Liam chuckles again, and the sound turns my stomach. Is he actually entertaining this idea? We never talked about this, but then we haven’t talked about anything, have we? Is he really going to let this happen? I would rather die. I wish he had left me in the house with Dad last night if that’s how this is going to turn out. My throat tightens into a pinhole. I dig my nails deeper into my palms, fighting to breathe.
“I think I’ll leave it.” In one smooth, quick movement, Liam reaches under his suit jacket, pulls out a gun, and fires.
