Everyone stilled at the sight of the dark-haired, green-eyed man whose large body took up much of the doorframe.
“Happy Christmas,” Beckett said into the stunted silence. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to make sure Bianca was well after the…events of yesterday.”
“I’m fine,” Bianca assured him, standing up to greet him with a hug. “Please, come in and visit for a while. I take it after what happened, you aren’t exactly invited to the Constantines’ for Christmas.”
The older man’s grin was more of grimace. “Not exactly, no.”
Bianca sat beside him on one of the velvet couches and surprised me by taking his hand. “I didn’t expect you to witness the signature and I won’t be angry if you don’t want to appear in court, if it comes to that. I know you and Caroline have…history.”
I narrowed my eyes at the mysterious subtext of their conversation, a low growl ready in my throat because I didn’t like seeing my little thing with a secret connection to another man.
“Yes,” he agreed, clasping her hand back gently, patting their joint embrace with his other hand in a kind of fatherly way. “But I hope my future is with you…and yours.”
“That isn’t up to me,” she warned, eyes darting to the side, toward me, for a fleeting second.
Beckett cleared his throat, straightening his broad shoulders in the expensive black suit he wore even though it was Christmas Day. I myself was in black jeans and a black cashmere sweater Walcott had given me as a gift from Brando.
The door chimed again, probably Carter. He was going stop by to talk about my plan for Bryant before he headed to Morelli Mansion for Christmas dinner. Walcott excused himself, but my focus remained on Beckett who turned to stare at me for a long moment.
I stared back, eyes narrowed with hostility.
No matter his reputation as a kind and charming man, there had always been something about the man that got my hackles up.
“Tiernan, may I talk to you for a second?”
Before I could answer, Santo Belcante strolled into the room with an armful of presents, grinning over the top. “You got room for one more in this fucking creepy ass house?”
Bianca laughed as she went to him, offloading some of the presents. “If you come bearing gifts, of course.”
She led Santo to Brando and bent down to make quiet introductions.
Brando frowned at the mysterious man and I caught his indignance. “I don’t care if you’re our real uncle. We aren’t leaving here. I don’t want to go with you!”
“Hey,” Santo said, hands raised in the air as he crouched beside Brando and Bianca. “I’ve got no intention of taking you away if you’re happy here, okay? I just want to be friends, if you’ve got room for one more?”
Brando studied him with knotted brows for a long moment before finally looking at Bianca who nodded at him. “Do you like superheroes?”
Santo thought about it seriously for a moment then said, “I think my favorite has to be Batman. I like that he doesn’t have any magical powers, just courage and smarts.”
Brando nodded. “He’s not as cool as Spider Man, but I guess you could stay and play with me for a while.”
Santo bit off the edge of his smirk. “Thanks. I’m just going to talk to Tiernan for a second and then I’ll come back, okay?”
Brando agreed, already turning back to Ezra and their Lego set.
I jerked my chin at Santo, knowing why he’d come, and then addressed Beckett’s previous question. “I’ve got some business to attend to, but if you wait around, I could make time.”
Beckett frowned, but I was already leaving the room with Santo on my heels, leading the way to my office. As we crossed into the hall, Carter stood just inside the door tossing his coat and scarf to Walcott.
I collected him on our way to my office and took up position behind my desk while the other two men settled in. There was a furious look on Carter’s usually amicable face and he cracked his knuckles anxiously.
“What is it?” I asked him.
“Bryant won’t tell me exactly what he plans to do to you,” Carter spat, his face flushed with mounting fury. “He worries I’ll have some kind of ‘misguided’ brotherly empathy and he won’t take the risk. He’s determined to ruin you, Tiernan.”
“He’s taken everything from me for years. He won’t take what I have, now,” I promised darkly. “Santo, you already contacted him. Tell us how that went?”
The mafioso leaned forward on the couch at the edge of the room, a lock of overlong hair falling into his face. “He’s interested. I was understandably coy about what the fuck I was offering, but I promised it was information on Halcyon.”
“Fucking Bryant,” Carter muttered.
“It’s Dad,” I said. “What the hell did you expect? He’s tried to ruin aspects of all of our lives. He won’t back off until we put a fucking muzzle on him and it has to be one that sticks. If we can entrap him with Santo’s intel, then we can blackmail him. We can control him, keep him in line.”