Yet she grabs the bottle from me and takes a healthy pull.
Keifer smirks but wisely doesn’t push his testy sister. He turns to me. “This isn’t the ideal way for us to meet, but it’s nice to finally meet you.”
“‘Isn’t ideal’ is the least awkward way to phrase it.” Ursula snorts, and he grins with a shrug.
“Isn’t this…” I motion between them and me, at a loss for words. They’re Leeva’s stepkids; she was married to their father, and I’m the one who stupidly let her get away. How the hell do you talk about that elephant in the room?
“Weird as fuck?” Ursula arches a brow and taps her long nails on the bottle. “Yeah, but Leeva is family, and we care about her happiness.”
“And her safety.” Keifer’s tone is serious now, instead of joking.
Which is a sobering reminder that I’m stuck in here, not at Leeva’s side while they poke and prod her.
My teeth grind, and I resume my pacing, fisting the bottle of water so hard the plastic crumples and water erupts onto the floor.
“How much longer?” Ursula leans against Ash’s desk and drops the bottle of Jack onto it with athud. “When will your club vote on this ridiculous law? The one where you take ‘bros before hos’ to the goddamn extreme.
“And you do know it’s the twenty-first century, right? This claim that a woman can’t change her mind, especially when she finds out the man is a fucking piece of shit like Guerilla, is complete and utter bullshit.” Ursula’s accent gets thicker the longer she spews, and she shoves to her feet and paces.
“You’re not wrong,” I growl. “And I don’t know how much longer.”
Keifer sits in one of the chairs and props his ankle on his knee, observing me. “You’re not worried about facing a firing squad. Why?”
“If you’re looking for reassurance that it’s because I’m completely confident that the MC won’t vote that I’m guilty, don’t.”
Even though the tattoo is gone, it’s still just a technicality, and I know I’m exploiting a loophole in the club’s law. The club’s vote could easily come back as guilty.
I heave out a breath and tell them what I’ve told others, including Leeva. “I’m not worried about facing death because I won’t survive losing her again. I knew the risks, yet I was still willing to risk everything, including my life, to be able to finally call her mine.”
“That’s poetic.” His voice is thick, and he clears his throat, glancing at Ursula. “Not necessary, though. If the vote comes back against you, we’ll help you escape, and you can return to Berlin with us.”
“I appreciate the offer.” And I do. “But the MC won’t let me leave, and you have three ex-Special Ops against the full club.”
“Plus you.”
My jaw shifts. “I won’t kill my family in order to save myself.”
Keifer drops his foot to the floor and leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs while studying me intently. “An honorable position, but still… You wouldn’t killanyof these people in order to survive?”
I think of Razor, Thunder, and some of the other old guard; I’d definitely like to kill them right now.
“Stop trying to profile him,” Ursula snarks. “You gave up being a head doctor.”
“What could Guerilla possibly gain from the Wentzells through Leeva?” I cut in before their bickering can start up again. “She told me that she insisted on signing a prenup.”
They exchange a look, and I catch the unease in it.
“What?” I demand.
They exchange another look, and Keifer nods to Ursula.
“Leeva isn’t aware of this, but our father went around the prenup and set her up with shares in the company. Investments, properties, liquid cash. She’s not just a comfortable widow with some wealth.”
“She’s a billionaire,” Keifer adds.
I lean against the wall, frowning. “If she doesn’t know about this, could Guerilla?”
Keifer, who’s been studying me like I’m a specimen under a microscope and just revealed I might be the cure to cancer, beams. “He passed, Urs.”
