“Ryan has . . . connections. And while I’m utterly ashamed that Sebastian is my own flesh and blood, I don’t want him hurt or worse.”
My lips tighten into a straight line. “If something happens to him, you can forget about everything,” I growl. “I won’t marry Sabrina. I won’t join Skynet. I won’t be fucking part of this.”
To my surprise, the corner of his mouth pulls up in a smile. “As much as I like this side of you, Marcus, you are aware that you have absolutely no leverage over me, right? I can still pull the plug on the pub.”
Rage bubbles through my veins, and the edges of my vision blacken as I fight the urge to hit him in his smug face. “So you’re fine ruining Sebastian’s career, but you draw the line at murder? Good to know.”
“Cut the shit, Marcus, and tell me that you still understand what’s at stake.”
“I understand,” I grit out.
“Great. Now, I have a meeting with Ryan in twenty minutes, so I need you to be a good boy and go call your brother. Tell him daddy dearest says hello.”
Condescending asshole.
I stand and leave the office, slamming the door behind me. I almost run directly into Regina.
“Excuse me,” I mutter as I walk around her.
“Marcus.” Her voice is cold, and it gives me pause. I turn to look at her. “I suggest you reconsider whatever it is that you’re planning.” She nods at the closed door behind me. “Those idiot men might not see it, but I know you’re hiding something.” Her look is pure venom. “Don’truin this for me.”
Okay then.Maybe she’s more like Regina George than I thought.
I keep my face neutral and give her a confused smile. “I’m not sure I follow, ma’am.”
I turn and continue walking to the elevator, but I can feel her eyes on my back like the scope of a gun.
I want to scream and hit something, but I know there are cameras all over this fucking building. Probably even in the bathrooms. So I hold in my anger until I’m outside when I can call a car.
I’m simmering with rage when I arrive at the pub.
I detour down the sidewalk and storm all the way to the pier. Cars honk; a homeless guy is yelling; someone’s dog is barking; a diesel truck roars by, the smell turning my stomach. Everything is so fucking loud, and my senses are overloaded. My palms have started to sweat by the time I reach the harbor and walk out onto the boardwalk at Waterfront Park.
Being that it’s winter, the space is mostly deserted, though the Seattle Great Wheel is lit up in blue and green hues, rotating slowly over Elliott Bay’s dark, choppy waters.
Icy wind whips my hair around my face as I pull out my phone and dial John’s number.
“Hey, Marcus.”
“Hey, John.”
He must be able to hear the panic in my voice. “Are you okay?”
“That shit with Dennis has really fucked with everything,” I continue. “Seb was almost hurt. Hell, Fionawashurt.” I pull my hands through my hair painfully. “Ryan is unhinged, and my dad is on my back about shutting my brother up.” I’m pacing, my boots thumping against the wooden planks. “And then Regina threw me for a loop today. Everyone is so fucking corrupt, and it’s infuriating.”
“Whoa, Marcus, calm down. We’re on track for April, just like we planned. In fact, we got the jump drive sorted this morning. Courtney said that Ryan is fucked. He’s on tape threatening the board members, and Martin is on thin ice by association. He’ll want to stay as far away from Ryan after this as possible.”
My breath catches. “Does he mention them by name?”
“I’m not sure. I have a meeting with Courtney this afternoon. Let’s hope so. Plus, my lawyers have the paperwork ready, and I’m prepared to step in as the pub’s primary investor.” He pauses and lowers his voice like he doesn’t want to be overheard. “This is important to me too, remember? We won’t mess it up. As soon as Sabrina is on the board, we’ll pull the trigger.”
I nod even though he can’t see me and take a deep breath, willing my body to come down from the adrenaline rush that’s fueling my panic. “Right. That’s great. I’m sorry.” I rub the back of my head and grimace when I realize my scalp is sweaty. “Shit. How’s your head?”
John chuckles. “It’s healing fine.”
“Good. I know I haven’t said it much, but what you’re doing . . . it means a lot.”
I can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re welcome, Marcus.” I’m about to say my goodbyes and hang up when John speaks again. “Marcus?”
