Fingers crossed that once the kill list is complete and not a single man who raped his girl is still breathing, he’ll start enjoying his time with Violet while she’s growing his baby.
Her tiny bump is showing whenever she wears tight dresses, and Broadway doesn’t stop touching it, refusing to miss the moment his baby kicks for the first time.
It’s odd watching him do such a profound one-eighty whenever Violet’s around. He’s unhinged when she’s not within sight. The elaborate killings are proof of that, but as soon as she’s close, that grizzly bear morphs into a teddy.
Well,almostevery time.
Right now is a prime example of Broadway’s untamable, uncontrollable wrath. He’s vibrating beside me, his knuckles white around the glass of Bourbon.
The reason? Carter’snothere. He’s in the office with one of his many informants. Once Amadeus Tipton heaved his soul out, the light in his eyes dying forever, Broadway reiterated the gossip he spilled about Grey’s rage and Noretto’s failing business.
Carter called in his informant, looking for more details, and by the look of Broadway, he’s worried Carter will end his extracurricular activities.
I wouldn’t be surprised. The tension between Carter and Grey has been growing exponentially. Escalating the conflict—read: forcing Grey’s hand—is not a wise choice.
It’s always best to take your enemy down on your own terms than risk a full-fledged war you’re not prepared for.
Carter told the three of us to stay back and secure the girls. It hiked Broadway’s anxiety far beyond reasonable levels.
No wonder. We’re usually kept in the loop...
“What do you think he’ll do?” Broadway asks, setting his empty glass on the table.
“Hard to say.”
“There’s just Vincent left. He can’t stop me now. Not when I’m this—”
“He can,” I cut in before he gets too worked up.
Hailey’s busy gossiping with Violet, and the music filling the air masks our conversation, but Broadway’s volume is too high.
“Keep it down,” I chastise. “He’s the boss, Broadway. He’s already done a shitload to accommodate your vendetta.”
Broadway huffs, his knee bouncing in a nervous tick, fingers balling into fists then unclenching slowly. “TheyhurtViolet. They deserved to die. I need Vincent’s head, Ryder. You know that. You know Carter wouldn’t stop if it was Hailey—”
“Nah, ah, ah,” I tut, shaking my head. “He gave you the green light to kill while herefrainedfrom killing Grey and Noretto even though they hurt Hailey. I bet taming his bloodthirst cost him a few gray hairs, but he knew killing those two would mean a war we’re not ready for.”
Broadway grumbles under his breath before getting the attention of one of the lower-ranking soldiers nearby. “Get me a refill,” he orders.
“Carter’s the boss here, but don’t forget he’s anewboss,” Koby pipes in, joining our conversation, his hushed tone a cue that we’re still too loud. “He’s being watched.Judged. Everyone who ever eyed Rhett’s seat waits for one bad decision, one mistake.”
Broadway nods, raking a hand through his hair, eyes darting briefly to Violet. “What about Carrow? Having him as an ally must mean something.”
Koby’s derisive snort hits my ears. “Carter and Dante are thick as thieves, but not even Dante would send his cavalry if Carter started a war started through poor choices.”
Hailey glares at me over the table, clearly annoyed that we’re chit-chatting in hushed voices, leaving her in the dark.
She’s the nosiest little thing I ever met. While we’re not discussing any taboo subjects right now,nothinghits her ears without Carter’s explicit permission.
The soldier Broadway used as his waiter comes back with a tray of drinks. He’s new. New enough that I still haven’t learned his name. New enough that, judging by his triumphantexpression, he thinks fetching drinks for everyone, not just Broadway, will earn him brownie points.
“He already did the unthinkable for you, Broadway,” I say once the guy moves away and the girls snatch their drinks: a mojito for Hailey and a virgin version for Violet. “He handed the evidence over when Violet was on the line, right?”
Broadway’s back straightens as he gives me a tight nod.
“Exactly. If he says your killing spree ends here, you’ll nod, thank him for his fucking patience with your temporary insanity, and you’llstop.”
“Of course I’ll stop.”
