On the streets, Arden Lachlan Megalley is a beloved figure in this town that my great-grandparents founded in the early 1930s. People address him with warm smiles, and he returns them.
However, that hospitality is shown when it's deserved.
Behind closed doors, his violence even terrifies me. Which speaks volumes, considering I’m desensitized to most things. I watch him in awe, respecting the power and authority he commands. Ever since Mom and Tayla were murdered, anyone who crosses him not only has their body destroyed, but it's like he tries to crush their soul in his fists, echoing the fractures in his own.
We only have each other now.
His sleep-ridden tone carries through the space. My Irish accent may be slowly slipping from me, but his is still as thick and deep as it always has been. “You must think I’m blind if I didn’t see you sneak that girl in here. Who is she?” he speaks through the rim before taking a sip.
Shit. So much for him not finding out. But a new face around the estate wouldn’t go unnoticed.
I do the same, letting the smooth, spiced flavor glide across my taste buds. “Kate.” I’d say the husk in my voice is from the scotch, but it's not.
“Kate,” he repeats, nodding. “She’s pretty.”
“Oh,” I cough, choking on the liquor. “It’s not like that.”
He arches a brow. “Not like what?”
“I’m not fucking her.” Yet.
Not. Going. To. Happen.
Doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize about wrapping those dark blonde waves around my fist. Wonder what that lying tongue would feel like gliding up my shaft. Picture what Kate would look like while I assault that goddamn mouth until she can’t distinguish her tears of pleasure from her tears of pain.
I shift slightly in the chair to relieve the growing bulge in my briefs.
If just the thought of her can unravel me, what would claiming her do?
Dragging a hand over his salt and pepper beard, he sighs, giving me a flash of those crow’s feet on the corners of his eyes. They used to be a warm brown like mine, but are now dull like the dirt he wishes he were buried six feet under—a testament to how the last several years have aged him quickly.
My father studies my face. “I was wondering when you’d finally start to settle down.”
“Fuck no. She’s not—” Goddamn. How can I avoid telling him about her real reason for being here? Didn’t she briefly mention something about having a medical background earlier? “She’s joining our medical team,” the words pour out of my mouth before I’ve carefully considered them.
“Oh? I didn’t realize we were looking to add another person.”
“I figured with missing product and not knowing if the Calco Cartel is behind it, it's best to be prepared.” Just becausenobody’s made a move in a year doesn’t mean we’re not still at war.
He nods thoughtfully, but I don’t miss the glint of suspicion that lingers. “So, she’s staying here? In the estate.” His lips twitching grate against my skin.
I prop my foot on my knee, lean back, and get comfortable as I pop a few buttons. Fuck, it's getting hot in here.
“She just moved to town. Thought she could stay here for a month until she finds a place. We have plenty of space.”
“Ah, I see.” His hand rocks, twirling the amber liquid in the glass. “Well, I’d like to meet her when she has a minute. You know, considering you employed her without my knowledge, and my life might rest in her hands.”
He’s too perceptive to see through my bull shit. My dad may not know the exact reason she’s here, but maybe letting him wonder if something is stirring between Kate and me would be better than the truth. If he thinks she’s involved with the Calco Cartel at all, proof or not, it’s not just her heart and her kidney she’ll have to worry about.
He’ll leave nothing left of her.
TWELVE | KATE
Early-morning light pierces through the skylights above me, energizing the indoor plants that surround the perimeter. Vines cascade across the ceiling, their growth lacing through the rafters and dripping down the spaces of the wall between the massive windows.
Though it's a beautiful breakfast nook with a view of the forest to the right and the yard and ocean beyond to the left, it does little to dispel the exhausted fog that's been hovering in my head. My eyes are fixed on those looming watchtowers and fences, with guards—their solid statures look like gargoyles keeping watch. For what, I’m not sure.
This isn’t just a family that owns the town and an amusement park. There’s more lurking in the depths that I accidentally dipped my toes into, and it's sucking me in.
