Then, I turn my phone off and toss it onto my bed. Just in case Soren has been using it to track me.
I agreed to let him come with me, trail me, continue whatever stalking he insists on doing while we handle the Carvel situation, but I don’t want him there tonight.
No, where I’m going, no one is going to keep me from danger.
8
Soren
Every single fucking time I seem to find Carmine, he’s getting himself into some kind of trouble. I keep telling myself that I don’t need to watch him every second of every day. After all, I have a life of my own. Don’t I?
Uncle says my job is to keep an eye on the Dresvanni business plans and talk to the Carvels about getting in with them to double-cross Carmine. Yet, all I’ve been doing is trailing the damn guy and saving his life.
I still have yet to talk to the Carvels. Carmine thinks I’m going to talk to them to try and gauge if they’re a danger, and Eivor expects me to make sure they are.
I find myself caught between a rock and a hard place, and not the fat cock kind.
All I can do is remind myself that this is the long game. Build my family up, take what should be ours, and make my own name outside of Eivor’s. He won’t be around forever. One day, I’ll be the one in charge. It’s what happens right here and now that defines what type of leader I’ll be.
I have to stay loyal to my family, even if they are a pain in my ass.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Rosalie asks me as she walks beside me. Her heels click with each step she takes, and she has to walk faster to keep up with my longer stride.
“You’re the one who said you wanted to be more of a part of this, Sis,” I remind her. I look over at her just as she rolls her eyes. Those shiny bright eyes, the same warm hazel as our father and long hair the same sandy blonde locks as our mother. She looks like a perfect replica of the both of them.
“Alright, but if I break a nail, you’re paying for me to get them redone,” she tells me.
I snort. “Some fucking pansy ass shit from a woman who said she wanted to get some action in this,” I comment. We’re walking down an alleyway toward a double door with a large guard dressed in a black suit and sunglasses at night. Several other people walk ahead of us. The scent of alcohol rolls off of them.
It makes me think of Carmine. He’s inside here somewhere, and I’m hoping for the life of me that it’s watching on the sidelines.
“I just got them done,” she explains. “For my birthday. At least give me a couple days with them.”
“Are you the same woman who choked the life out of her ex-boyfriend who ended up being a spy and tried to kill you?” I ask her. “I don’t think that girl was thinkin’ about her nails.”
“Don’t start with me, asshole,” she sneers. “I can kill a man and still want pretty nails.”
I put a hand up. “Alright, I can’t judge. I just got this new jacket and I don’t wanna get it ripped up tonight.” I fix the collar of my new leather jacket. It needs broken in, but not that broken in.
She chuckles as we get to the door.
“Code?” the guard asks the people in front of us.
One of them laughs and nudges the others. “Poppy fields,” they whisper behind their hand, but it’s louder than they intended. Exactly what I was hoping for.
They’re let inside, then the guard stops us.
“Code?” he asks, looking at us from behind his sunglasses.
“Poppy Fields,” I tell him, in an appropriate hushed whisper. One that says, I actually care about the secrecy of this place. I hand him a wad of cash as well.
“This way, man,” he says with a more pleasant tone and waves us through one side of the double door.
Rosalie wiggles her wingers at him playfully. “See you later,” she teases.
“I hope.” He smiles.
I roll my eyes now once we’re inside the main hallway.
