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I’m officially in cowboy hell.

We’ve been locked up in this room for over an hour, haggling over numbers, and the whole time I’ve been counting down the minutes until we can wrap this up, get the fuck out of here, and head home to Clara and Charlotte.

“That should be everything,” Damien Blackridge states as he leans back in his seat, looking every bit the part of a cowboy, especially with his black hat resting on the table beside him. Blackridge is one of the most well-known and feared names in these parts of Montana, running the biggest piece of land in the state. Damien and his siblings took over the business after their father retired, with a “no bullshit” attitude and an aptitude for making their enemies disappear. And it’s not only horses and cattle that have made them more money than God, which is why Vin and I are here solidifying our alliance.

The terms of the contract state that the Alaries will now be discreetly investing just over two million dollars each year for the next five years in Blackridge Whiskey. A legitimate company that will help us dispose of illegal funds we obtain. With the investment, the Blackridge family will be able to build a bigger facility, allowing them to broaden their outreach while we receive a sizeable percentage of their quarterly profits, creating clean money in our accounts.

Some might call it money laundering.

We call it a business opportunity.

“I’ll ensure the paperwork is sent over tonight,” Damien adds.

“We appreciate you being willing to partner with outsiders,” Vin says, rubbing his jaw. “This will be a business venture you won’t regret.”

Damien eyes him. “We don’t usually work with men outside these mountain ranges, but the Alarie name is legendary. Even in these parts. Some of the stories I’ve heard are quite…” He rocks his head from side to side. “Outlandish.”

“Well, what can I say?” Vin steeples his fingers. “We take care of business any way we need to. If you’re loyal to us, we return the favor. But fuck us over, and you’ll find out how ‘outlandish’ those stories are.” He smirks. “If I’m not mistaken, I’ve heard similar stories about you and your brothers as well.”

Damien grins. If you can even call it that. “I like you.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Heard the Vasilievs have been giving you problems. Should we be concerned?”

“Not in the slightest,” Vin answers, his face growing serious. “We’re taking care of them. One brother at a time.”

Damien nods. “Understood.” He stands, securing his cowboy hat on his head. “Well, I have to head to Boston for a personal matter, but…” He extends his hand toward Vin, and we both stand. “Here’s to a prosperous partnership.”

“May the whiskey never run dry,” Vin replies, giving his hand a firm shake.

Damien drops his hand and quickly shakes mine. Vin and I head out of the boardroom, escorted down the hall by a guard who delivers us to our waiting SUV.

I slide into the passenger seat, rubbing my temple as a headache forms behind my eyes. I reach inside the console and grab a tissue. “Fucking horse allergies,” I grumble, removing my glasses and pinching the bridge of my nose.

Vin laughs as he gets behind the steering wheel and starts the car. “Come on, you’ve got to admit the fresh air feels a whole lot different here than in New York.”

“Yeah, in New York, I can fucking breathe.”

He grins knowingly. “Nothing beats being home.”

“Agreed.” All I want is to get home and snuggle with Clara before she goes to bed, then give Charlotte an orgasm or two before she does. Fuck, I’ve never wanted anything more.

I reach inside my pocket and pull out my phone, pleased to see I finally have a few bars of service. I straighten, sliding my thumb across the screen as notification after notification pops up. “What the fuck?”

Two missed calls from Charlotte.

Three missed calls from Mom.

One voicemail from Mom.

I turn on my Bluetooth and press play, my mom’s voice filling the space around us.

“Hi, sweetie. So, everything is okay. Don’t panic. But Charlotte called me a little bit ago, very worried about Clara, who has a slight fever. Doctor Rose said it’s just an ear infection and nothing to worry about. But call me the second you hear this. Love you.”

My knuckles curl around my phone, tightening against the screen. My heart thrashes against my rib cage, the panic hitting hard and fast.

My daughter is sick.

And I’m not home.

“Vin.” My voice drops to a lethal level, one even I’m not familiar with. “Get me home. Now.”