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“It was—I didn’t,” she replied, her voice a low, terrified whisper. Tears welled in her eyes as she fumbled for words.

“How do you think you got away with it, hm?” he asked.

My skin pebbled. Got away with what, exactly? If Father was using something against her, it was incriminating.

“Luka reached out to me as a favor for you, because I had the power to make it go away.” He tilted his head. “I’d hate for it to come to light. It would be a shame for the world to discover your mistakes even after all these years, now wouldn’t it? Or I can simply pass you off to the mafia who’s put a price on your head. I must warn you though; they won’t be as forgiving as me. It’s your choice.”

Her options were to either comply with us or become someone else's prisoner where they would do far worse things to her than me. My pulse spiked, my vision blurring at the possibility.

Sutton visibly swallowed and glanced at me, but my expression remained a cool mask. She stared with pleading, fearful eyes, but within that fear was something more as they glazed over. Curiosity pulsed in my veins, climbing to my chest. I was going to find out whatever it was.

“What do you want?” she asked Father.

He smiled, pleased. “You’ll train with Manic and learn how to wash our numbers. You’ll learn to do what your father does should he not comply with our demands.”

I knew the real reason he wanted her to learn—to replace an unreliable casino owner with a younger, more adaptable successor. He wanted Sutton to do his bidding without issue and had threatened her with coercion, which meant he planned on getting rid of Luka at some point. I couldn’t prove it, though.

“And if he doesn’t?” she balked, clenching her fists. “Am I going to be your prisoner forever?”

“Luka will comply. And as soon as that happens and you finish your training with Manic, we’ll let you go,” Father stated. “But I expect you to cooperate.”

“Then what’s the point of learning anything?”

Father chuckled, rubbing his jaw. “Let’s just say it’s my personal ‘fuck you’ to Luka, considering he didn’t want you to know about what he does. But he made choices that put you at risk, and didn’t trust you enough to inform you. I think I have one idea as to why he kept it from you, though I’m not sure you’re willing to admit that yet. How does it feel to be betrayed by your own blood?”

Sutton flushed and stared up at him, wringing her hands while she processed his words. Her eyes danced over the group, almost as if she were thinking about it.

The seconds ticked by, but to my surprise, she blinked and resignation settled over her features. Then she swept her gaze back to Father and said, “When do I start?”

9

MANIC

After Vince escorted Sutton back to her room, Naomi had followed Grave and the others to retrieve the cars. I walked with my father toward the elevator, though a frightening amount of fury beat between my ears. Sutton was hiding something—knowledge I’d been excluded from. And the fact that I was excluded at all?

Well, that pissed me off.

As head of surveillance, I should have known everything. And, if I was right in my assumption, it meant that whatever she did must have happened before I began watching her.

How did it slip by me? Father must have completely wiped the incident from her file. If what he said was true, he’d kept it for himself, meaning he already knew he’d be using it against her.

How long had he been sitting on it?

Father stopped at the elevator as it chimed each level up, dismissing Axell with a wave of his hand.

“The evidence you have on Sutton,” I said, “is it true?”

“Yes,” he answered, though a smile tilted his mouth. “She’s quite a lithe little thing, isn’t she? The ones you’d least expect make the most excellent criminals. It’s a shame Luka hasn’t used her sooner.”

Instead of punching him like I wanted to, I slid my hands into my pockets and held my tongue. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but his observation annoyed me.

“Now that Luka’s car has been found,” he continued, “we’re going to let him sweat until the feds leave, and then we’ll meet with him in one of the clubs. You are to bring her with you.”

“I’ll bring her,” I said, “but I want to look over her files—what you have on her—while we wait. If I’m to keep her here, I should know what it is you’re holding over her head.”

Father put his phone away, chuckling softly. The sound grated on my nerves because I knew exactly what that meant; he wouldn’t be sharing anything with me.

A heavy silence festered between us as the elevator dinged three more floors. He assessed me, slow and cold. Calculated. When the elevator reached the penthouse and the doors slid open, he offered the faintest of smiles. He stepped inside without a word, then turned with a set brow and a tense jaw.