How?
No idea.
But anything was possible.
I slipped into a flattering sundress, the cotton smooth against my skin as it hit my knees. The lilac color highlighted my tanned skin. It skimmed the line between conservative and flirty. Hopping out the door, I tugged on my flats, nearly tumbling down the stairs.
The sooner we left, the sooner this would be over with.
Outside, Dad leaned against his sleek BMW. His eyes flicked over me before jerking his chin toward the car. A seal of approval from Senator Sterling, lucky me. Cool leather brushed against my bare legs as I slid into the passenger seat.
I leaned against the window, watching as we maneuvered through the one-way streets toward the south side of town. The tightly packed row houses gave way to an expanse of greenery, a sprawling lawn with lush gardens flanking a massive estate peeking out from behind a wrought iron gate.
Holy shit.
Who the fuck were we meeting? Tom Brady?
The car slid to a stop, and my dad rolled down the window, pushing a call button. Two men strolled over the manicured lawn, pistols tucked into the waistband of their trousers. I was only slightly freaking out. It was fine.
I stared, wordlessly, praying that they were well-armed security for some rich family, but they looked rough.
Tattoos covered their hands, their square faces framed by thick auburn beards. The gate groaned as it creaked open, rocks rumbling under the tires as Dad tapped the car forward a few feet.
Blood coated my tongue after chewing my lips raw. While I didn’t mind the repercussions from pushing Dad, these men were different.
If I stepped out of place, I might end up with something far worse than a few bruises. My heart raced as I eyed their weapons. I clasped my hands in my lap, catching the alphas’ scents wafting intothe car on the breeze.
My nostrils twitched. Smoke and bergamot. Not for me, but not rancid.
“Senator Sterling.” The taller of the two alphas spoke, his silky timbre roughened by a prominent Irish lilt. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I need to speak to Kaelen Finnegan. I have an offer for him. One I think he will be very interested in.”
Two
KAELEN
Sweat slicked off my brow, clinging to my bare chest as I tossed the barbells onto the mat with a dull thud. Bass thumped from the speakers, shaking the mirrored walls in my private gym. It’d been two hours, and I still wasn’t finished. I wouldn’t stop until the lingering rage faded, refusing to give in to the caged animal trapped inside me.
If I hadn’t worked out the last of my aggression, I would have done something rash. And acting on instinct wasn’t a luxury I was afforded. As the head of my family, I couldn’t lash out. Every action needed to be meticulously crafted with the ramifications accounted for.
Fuck.
The last thing I wanted right now was to be logical. I wanted to paint the pavement outside the Rossi mansion with blood.
Outside my brothers, Torin was my most loyal man.
Family was everything. And Torin was family in everything butblood.
I never doubted that he would take a bullet for me, and now that he proved that. I wanted to throttle the bastard. Fucking idiot, jumping in front of me like that. The kid who shot at me had poor aim; it would have grazed my arm at best.
Torin was still alive, but in critical condition in the ICU. I needed to blow off some steam before I did something stupid. The Italians were really pushing my buttons. If Vittorio Rossi didn’t get a handle on his trigger-happy younglings, I was going to do something far more dangerous than sending the head of the guy who shot Torin to his front step in a box.
I grabbed a towel, wiping sweat from my face as I walked toward my bedroom in the opposite wing. After one more set, I accepted that retribution was enough for now. We were on the brink of war with the Italians, and I didn’t want to push us over the edge.
Not yet anyway.
The house was quiet. Most of my men were at our pubs or casinos for the night. Aileen puttered away in the kitchen, cooking a meal that almost made me forgo a shower if I thought she wouldn’t scold my arse. My housekeeper was sterner than my Ma had been, and that woman could make a grown man cry.
