Chapter 20

The conference room is too hot. I complained about it to the office manager but there’s nothing she can do aside from call the building supervisor. I unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt and lean back in my chair, a bottle of cold water in my hand, the condensation rolling down the plastic.

My siblings stare at me with varying levels of unease.

“Explain to me again why we need to put our people at risk for the Biancos?” Seamus says, arms crossed over his chest, every inch of his posture screaming fuck this shit.

“Dad always avoided fights,” Molly says and looks around the room. “Didn’t he always say you don’t take risks?”

“Sometimes you have to roll the dice,” Declan says, cracking his knuckles. I didn’t expect him to be my most vocal supporter, but that’s how things shook out. He seems almost eager.

“Right, maybe if that risk involved our own people,” Seamus says, glaring at him. “But there is absolutely no benefit to sticking our necks out for a family that’s already ten times more powerful than we are. Let the big guys duke it out.”

“We don’t always have to be passive,” Caitlin says, but nobody really listens to her. My poor littlest sibling and youngest sister. I smile at her, since I appreciate her support and value her input, even if the others steamroll over her.

“I say we fight.” Nolan flicks a pen around his fingers. “Why the fuck not?”

“We’re lawyers,” Seamus says, throwing his hands in the air. “We’re not fucking thugs.”

“Actually, we sort of are,” Nolan points out. “I mean, we’re lawyers, but most of our organization—” He waves a hand at the windows, gesturing toward the city.

Seamus rubs his forehead. “Yes, we have a ground game, but that’s only in small pockets of the city and mostly in the big Irish enclaves. What you’re talking about is much bigger.”

I let them bicker for a little while longer. Seamus is adamant against fighting and Molly generally agrees, while Declan and Nolan are pro-war and on my side. Caitlin’s somewhere in the middle, though I think she would prefer if we remained in our own lane and didn’t risk any bloodshed.

But in the end, the decision falls on my shoulders. It always does. No matter how much I want to spread the responsibility around, I took my father’s position because I knew it had to be me. It was always going to be me.

“We’re fighting,” I say once there’s a lull in the conversation. “Seamus and Molly, you both make good points, and if either of you decides you don’t want to be directly involved then I won’t force it on you.”

Seamus rolls his eyes. “Fuck you, bro. If you fight, we fight.”

I’m grateful for that, but I’ll express it later. “You all need to understand that this is about growth. We’ve stagnated for a long time under Dad’s leadership and you all know it. Yes, we have a good thing going, we have some territory and a good amount of men working for our organization, but the world is changing. Small groups like ours can’t compete like we used to, and our margins are getting thinner, and our scores are getting smaller, and one day we’ll find that we really are just lawyers and nothing else. I want to make sure that doesn’t happen. I think this is our opportunity.”

Everyone’s staring. I can feel some of Seamus’s skepticism beginning to waver.

“How?” Declan asks, breaking the tense silence.

“Bianco and Santoro are going to fight, but one of them will win, and the other will lose. Once that happens, there will be new territory to split up, money and opportunities to seize. I’m betting on the Biancos, and I want to make sure we’re right there when it’s time to redraw the lines.”

“You really think Simon Bianco is going to reward us?” Seamus asks, looking dubious. “It’s a big risk.”

“Don’t forget who my wife is. He’s not dumb.” I look at my siblings, one at a time. “I won’t force this on any of you, but I’m going to tell the organization in the next few days what the plan is. We’re officially joining the war.”

I let that sink in. Seamus still isn’t convinced, and Molly looks nauseous at the thought, but at least Declan and Nolan seem like they’re both ready and raring to start pulling the trigger. Caitlin slips out first, shaking her head as she leaves.

We disperse back to our offices. Seamus comes with me, not saying much. I can feel his displeasure, and he doesn’t sit down once we reach my desk.

“You know I support you,” he says and when I don’t respond, he looks frustrated. “But this isn’t our way.”

“You mean, this isn’t our father’s way,” I say and meet his hard gaze. “But Dad’s dead and I’m in charge. I don’t need you on the front lines, but I need to make sure you’re with me.”

Seamus waves a hand at me and turns to the door. “Don’t insult me. The Quinn clan sticks together. Even when our boss makes a dumb call.” He walks out, and I don’t feel reassured.

Elena’s waiting for me back home. It’s day five of her time living at my place, two days past the agreed upon three, and more of her clothes keep showing up.

She’s still not sleeping in my room. Every night I lie in bed and think about her curling up by my side, or straddling my hips and riding me until we both pass out from exhaustion, or her warm breath on my neck in the middle of the night. I know it isn’t going to happen anytime soon, and maybe it’s better this way. I’m already making big decisions because of my emotions, and my father always taught me to step back from how I feel before letting it affect my actions. I’ve always worked hard to be like him, and now it’s like that image of myself is beginning to slip away.

“I’ve been thinking about your zoning issue,” Elena says as she plates dinner. I don’t know when she got so damn domestic, but I like it. Part of me thinks she’s been cooking so much to compensate for her boredom. She’s not the type of woman that enjoys being cooped up far away from her family and support system, and even though we’re just ten minutes south, that must feel like forever when she’s used to walking out her front door.

“Don’t tell me you want to have another dinner with Omar Ali. I suspect that won’t work.”

“I bet I could win him over.” She fills our wine glasses and sits across the table.

“You probably think you could win over anyone.”

“I mean, yeah, obviously. I’m adorable and charming.” She gives me a big, cheesy smile. “But seriously, it seems like Omar’s never going to change his mind, right?”

“I think that’s pretty fair to say at this point.”

“That means we need a bigger fish.” She fingers the rim of her glass and leans toward me. I watch her lips and feel my mouth water at the thought of kissing her and tasting red wine on her tongue. “I’m thinking we go after O’Malley.”

I narrow my eyes. “She doesn’t play politics.”

“No, she doesn’t think she plays politics, but O’Malley’s a person like anyone else, and if you can get her, you can get half the board with her.”

“Wonderful suggestion, but how do you think that’ll work?”

“Give me a little time to figure it out, but I have some ideas.” She leans closer. “Now tell me that I’m a wonderful cook.”

“You’re a wonderful cook. And you’re beautiful too.”

“Thank you.” She pats her hair and beams at me. Fuck, I love that look in her eye, the way it sparkles with barely restrained excitement. “Now enjoy before all my hard work gets cold.”

We eat together. I tell her about my day—not mentioning the little war council I had with my siblings earlier—and she relates some gossip Stefania passed on earlier. I can tell she gets a little wistful, but I try not to let it bother me as I clear our plates and clean the kitchen. I swear, the girl uses every single pot and pan, and she’s never heard of straightening as she goes. But I’m not stupid and selfish enough to complain out loud.

“I have an idea,” I tell her once we’re sitting out back together. Her feet are in my lap and my dick’s half hard from the contact. And I’m not even into that fetish. “And I want you to think about it before you answer.”

“Look at us, we’re just full of brilliance today.” She settles in her chair and the heel of her right foot rubs the head of my dick. I bite back on a groan because she’s grinning and I swear she did that on purpose. “Alright, hit me with it.”

“Let’s try living in the oasis.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?”

I grunt in reply and take a deep breath. “It won’t be easy for me. It won’t look good, living on another family’s turf, when I’m supposed to be the boss of my clan. I’ll have to keep this house and use it as an office, and that means getting up early and coming here, spending late nights—” I tilt my head to the side at the look on her face. “But I’m not making this offer for free.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” she says and her tongue presses against her lower lip. “What’s the catch then?”

“I want to share a bedroom while we’re there.”

She leans back in surprise then bursts out laughing. Her feet move up and down, and now my cock’s fucking rock hard, and she’s definitely doing it on purpose. I move them away before I start trying to fuck her toes.

“Oh my god, you’re using a gambit to get me in bed,” she says, howling with delight. “That’s incredible. It’s almost unbelievable.”

“I’m not using a gambit.” I tighten my jaw, glaring at her. “I’m trying to make this work. That means acting like we’re actually husband and wife.”

“And you need to sleep in the same bed with me to feel like my husband?” She pouts her lips and leans closer. I glance down and feel my blood fucking boiling. I’m annoyed at her reaction—this fucking teasing, this arrogance—but I want her so badly it’s like my cock’s trying to break in half. I glance at the outline of her tits under her loose cropped shirt and I’m tempted to shove my hands up and cup her breasts and squeeze her nipples until she stops laughing and starts moaning.

“I don’t need that, but it might help,” I bite out, ready to storm off, but too aware of my hard dick to get up.

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m flattered honestly. You want to sleep with me so badly that you’re willing to cut deals to make it happen. I’m honored, I really am.”

“You’re such a conceited monster sometimes. If I wanted to fuck you, I’d fuck you.”

“Please, we both know what you want.” She leans forward, eyes like molten lust. Her lips are slightly parted, and her cheeks are bright pink. “You want me wearing just a pair of thin cotton shorts and a little crop top just like this one, no bra. You want to drag me into your arms in the middle of the night and ravish me. Come on, admit it.”

“I want to make you happy by moving to the oasis for a little while. I’m just trying to get something out of this fucking deal too.”

“And I’m what you’re getting.” She’s grinning huge now. “Say it, Brody. Admit you want me.”

I lean forward faster than she can react and bury my hand in her hair. My forehead presses to hers and she’s sucking in a shocked breath as I tighten my grip, pulling just hard enough to let her know that she’s mine. I hold her there, not moving, our bodies inches apart, looming over her and about one second away from giving in and tasting her again.

“If you make me say it,” I whisper, struggling to control my breathing. “Then I don’t know if I can hold back any longer.”

“Brody.” A small whimper. Just my name and a moan. Fuck, I could die right now. “Say it.”

I want to whisper the words. I want to say them so badly—then drag her up to my room and fuck her into a senseless stupor so deep and so perfect we end up sleeping for a whole week tangled in sweaty sheets. I want to lose myself in her, finally let myself spiral.

But there’s a war coming. I’m dragging my siblings into a fight they aren’t excited about, and if I do it while obsessing about Elena, I could make a mistake. I could let someone get hurt.

I release her hair. I step back. She stares at me, mouth open, breathing fast, legs spread, cheeks flushed. She’s so fucking beautiful, I could break.

“Pack tomorrow. We’ll leave when I get home from work.” I turn to the door, each step like walking in lead boots. “Unless you don’t want to take my deal.”

“I’ll take it.” Her voice is thick and soft. I pause before going inside. “I’ve never shared a room before. It’ll be fun.”

That isn’t the word I’d use. But I don’t tell her that. I go inside, because I have more work to do and never enough time for it all.