“Nothing is going on with me.”
Matti stares at me for a long moment. “Vin.”
“I’m fine.”
Tommy clears his throat. ”You’ve ingested a year’s supply of liquor by yourself over the course of two weeks—“
Two weeks?Shit.
“—and you won’t return calls from the family that you are not only building an alliance with for our entire organization but the family you’re marrying into imminently.”
I blow out a breath and close my eyes, rubbing my hands overmy face.
Matti interjects. “That’s not fine.”
“I’ll call them back.”
“When?”
“When I’m ready.”
“Ronan is asking questions we don’t have answers to,” Tommy says.
“What questions?” I really don’t fucking care.
“Why the boss has evaporated for weeks in the middle of planning a funeral, a wedding, and the consolidation of an alliance,” Tommy says evenly.
“It looks like weakness, Vin,” says Matti. “They’re not saying it yet but they will soon.”
“There’s no weakness.”
“There are four empty whiskey bottles in this room alone and six holes in the wall in the hallway. I’m willing to bet there are more of both if I looked around.” Tommy isn’t judgmental, just stating facts.
Matti, on the other hand: “You want to tell us what this is actually about?”
I ease up to a seated position on the floor, think better of it, and scoot back until I’m leaning against the coffee table. “No.”
“Is it Sophie?”
I can’t hide a snarl. “Don’t.”
“Vin—”
“Fucking don’t! That’s not what this is.”
Matti is quiet for a minute. I can feel him and Tommy exchanging looks over my head, but I don’t give a fuck.
Matti tries again. “If it’s Sophie that’s stopping you from—”
I’m across the room, my glass shattering on the floor and shatters, and grabbing him before he can finish. But I’m slow, awkward, wasted, and he’s ready for me, throwing me off him. I get my hands up in time to stop from going face-first into the fireplace. I spin and hit him, a real hit, and then we’re in it.
I’m swinging but Matti’s elbow connects with my jaw hard enough to make my vision white at the edges. I shake my head trying to make my double vision singular, and Matti hits me again. Before I can respond, Tommy is between us, one hand on each of our chests.
He sounds almost bored. ”Stop.”
I shove Tommy’s hand off me and straighten my shirt as Matii wipes blood off his lower lip with the back of his hand. I touch my jaw, and the throbbing pain feels grounding.
Matti pulls back. I straighten, touching my jaw, feeling the throb of pain pulse steadily. Matti looks at the blood and then at me.
