I tilt my head to the side, and look at the bottle as it’s placed back down on the coffee table. After a second, I grab it and pour myself some in a small crystal glass as well.
“I saved his life. He may not like me, or trust me, but he owes me,” I reply. I take a sip as I lean back. It burns slightly going down my throat. I try to imagine how Carmine can stomach a gallon of his shit a day. The second sip goes down smoother, the third even more so. By the time my uncle finally speaks again, I’m slightly warm and fuzzy.
I suddenly understand how.
“I want you to use that to take advantage of them,” he tells me. “Get closer to him, and if he owes you like you say, it should be no problem.”
My tongue darts over my lips and I look toward the fireplace as I speak. The fire crackling and waving in hot flashes of orange and yellow. It reminds me of how I felt when I saw Jackson with Carmine… Burning hot, unstoppable. A second away from destroying everything.
“What do you want from them?” I ask. “Besides access to the club. Long term, Eivor. What are we talkin?”
Eivor chuckles. “Always thinking down the line. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
“I didn’t think you liked anything.” I raise a brow. Then my stomach tightens. “Well. More than one thing.”
My uncle eyes me for a moment and hums. “You think too low of yourself. Perhaps of me. You’re not just my nephew; you’re like my son. You’re the only one I trust with this job, Soren.”
I take another drink, because I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, and it’s the only thing stopping me from throwing the glass at him.
I can’t deny that my uncle is a smart man. He’s always taken care of me and my sister. This family is all I have, and all I’m pretty sure I’ll ever have.
“Are you going to answer the question?” I ask.
“Soren,” Rosalie scoffs and smacks me in the face.
I blink in surprise, and smack her back, right in the chest out of instinct.
“Ow, dick!” she yelps. “That was my fucking tit.”
“Rosalie, if you can’t keep your hands to yourself—” Patricia starts, but Rosalie cuts her off.
“Fine! Fine, I’ll sit here and be good and listen,” she mumbles, and settles back into the couch like a toddler who’s been scolded.
Eivor shakes his head. “The two of you, just like when you were younger.”
There’s a long pause as he takes his final drink and then motions my aunt to pour him more.
“The goal you ask…” he finally gets to it. “Taking them down, of course. They’re unwilling to give us what we truly want. I’m not going to give them access to this city for a mere token of their power, access to their club…shared resources. No. I want to be on top. They want to be on top. We can’t both be on top.”
I hear Rosalie trying to muffle a snicker beside me. I can’t help but smirk softly, but I quickly compose myself. Realizing what it means.
“You’re not willing to agree to allyship at all?” I ask him, narrowing my eyes.
“Hell no. There’s no way they’re splitting fifty-fifty, and even if they would, I don’t want half for half. This family doesn’t settle,” Eivor insists, getting louder.
“No, we don’t,” Patricia agrees.
“So, you want Soren to help you kill them all?” Rosalie asks. “Why can’t I be a part of that again?”
“No one said you can’t, Rosalie,” Eivor replies with a sigh. “You’ll be plenty of help when it comes time.”
I take my last drink, but instead of getting more, I set the glass down. It smacks against the table harder than intended.
“Is there a problem, Nephew?” Eivor asks.
I shake my head. “None.”
There is.
