“How?” The word comes out desperate, hungry for answers.
He shakes his head, his expression unreadable. “Rule number one of being the boss, you may make all the decisions, but it's best to leave the planning to those you trust. That way it can never be used against you.”
“How am I supposed to help if I don't know what the plan is, Omen?” Frustration bleeds into every syllable.
Vatican snorts. “You're not coming with us. You'll go to the game with Harper and act like everything is normal.”
The dismissal stings more than it should.
Carnage steps in, backing his brother with a voice that's gentler but no less firm. “Go to the game, Tor. You being there will not only distract your father and brother, but…” he pauses, and when he says the next name, it sounds like poison on his tongue, “Xaden as well.”
“Appear normal. Act like you know nothing. Bring no attention to yourself,” Omen continues, his tone leaving no room for argument. “When the job is done, Carnage will text you.”
I press my lips together, questions burning in my throat, but Halo cuts me off before I can voice them.
“The less you know, the better. Devlin is in your head, we can't risk him knowing any details. We've already told you too much.”
A heavy sigh escapes me, the weight of helplessness crushing down on my shoulders. “If I'm going to take over my family's empire, how the fuck am I going to know what to do if you all won't show me?”
The vulnerability in my voice makes me want to crawl out of my skin.
“I told you I would be by your side and help you through it. I meant it.” Carnage's words wash over me like a lifeline. “I will teach you everything you need to know.”
I don't think he has any idea how grateful I am, how much his kindness has saved me when I had nothing left. I'll never be able to repay him for what he's given me.
“We'll all help you,” Halo adds, and something warm flickers in my chest.
“So long as you never try to fuck with Hollow Hills like your father and that other cunt, you will always have our loyalty.”
Omen's warning lands like a blade between my ribs—sharp, clean, unmistakable. I can read between the lines crystal clear. If I ever betray the Denver Kings, the Filthy Few, or any of their girls, I'll make enemies of them all. And that's a death sentence I never want to face.
The five of them are a force of nature on their own. Together?
Jesus. They would burn both towns to ash and never lose a moment's sleep over the devastation they left behind.
I nod, and this time when I storm out of the room, Pope doesn't dare stop me. I snatch clothes from my room with trembling hands and lock myself in the bathroom like I'm sealing myself away from the world. I can't look at my reflection. I can't bear to see the mark blazing on my neck like a brand of ownership.
He didn't need to do that. I already carry the evidence of him inside me every single day, and I don't mean his cum.
The life we so recklessly created together is a far bigger statement than a fucking hickey could ever be!
I scrub at my skin under the scalding water, trying to wash away the sins of the day, trying to think clearly about what I'm about to do. Taking out their money will cripple them but only for a moment. They'll recover. If their operation is as massive as I suspect, this will be nothing more than a temporary inconvenience.
Then an idea slams into me with such force I gasp out loud, choking on steam and revelation.
I practically throw myself out of the shower, wrapping a towel haphazardly around my body, water streaming down my legs as I burst out of the bathroom. I need to tell them. Now.
I rush into the living room and skid to a stop, the words exploding from my lips before I can think better of it. “We need to kidnap my dad.”
All six of them freeze, staring at me like I've lost my mind.
“Girl in the towel dripping water on my floor, say what?”
My eyebrows shoot to my hairline at Vatican's description. I glance down, taking in the sight of myself standing there, soaking wet in nothing but a towel, then look back at them and cringe. The five guys are staring at me like deer caught in headlights, their expressions a mixture of shock and something else I can't quite name.
“Tor, why don't you go change so the guys can focus on what you said rather than what you're hiding beneath that towel, huh?”
A mortified squeak tears from my throat. I take Harper's advice and flee back to my room, yanking on clothes with shaking hands. When I return to the living room, I can't bringmyself to look at any of them as I sink into the seat between Harper and Omen, heat still burning in my cheeks.
