“There’s only one thing that makes sense.”
I raise my eyebrows. Give nothing away.
“I’m just saying she’s young. You want to bury her brother. I get that. Are you willing to destroy an innocent girl to do it?”
“She’s a fucking Bishop. There is no such thing as an innocent Bishop.”
“And how do you plan to explain it all to your daughter? Have you considered Angelique?”
“I’ll handle it. You don’t have to worry about Angelique. She’s my first priority.”
“Is she?”
Fury burns inside me. “You do not get to question that,” I bark through gritted teeth.
“She’s my niece,” he says, setting his drink down and stepping toward me. “She’s my first priority too. And I think you’re making a mistake. I think something about this girl has caught your eye. Just don’t let your need to wet your dick cloud your priorities.”
I grab him by the collar. “Don’t you fucking dare—”
He knocks my hands off. “I will not stand by and watch you fuck this up.”
“I don’t plan on fucking it up.”
“You’re not focused, Jericho.”
“I’m one-hundred percent focused, Zeke. You just stay the hell out of my way if the thought of punishing Isabelle Bishop makes you queasy. All you have to do is make sure to keep your hands to yourself.”
“Like you did with Kimberly?”
The door opens then, and we both turn to find our mother standing there looking more fierce than she’s looked in a long time. She’s downright furious. I recognize the blazing eyes. I see them every time I look at my reflection. At least in one of my eyes.
She takes in the scene, her mouth falling open, and I realize how close we are to coming to blows.
She enters and closes the door behind her.
“Why are you out of bed?” I ask, as Zeke and I put space between us.
“Have you two lost your minds?” she asks instead of answering my question.
Fuck.
I look down at the Persian rug covering a large section of the floor. Zeke always liked those. My office, which is across the foyer, has a slightly more modern design.
With a sigh I shift my gaze to my brother. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of that.”
“Me either,” he says, looking as sheepish as I feel.
He steps toward me, extending his hand. I shake it.
“We’re in this together. I am your ally. Don’t forget it,” he says.
“I won’t,” I tell him.
“Better,” my mother says.
“You need to get some rest,” Zeke tells her. “Your doctor said—”
“I know what she said, Ezekiel,” she says, then turns to me. “Tell me something, did I hear correctly?” She raises an eyebrow and doesn’t take her eyes off me. “The Bishop girl is here?”