“Because they’re obsessed with you now?” He scoffs.
“Yes.” I shrug. “And if I tell them you won’t give me what I want, they’ll do whatever it takes to make me happy. To make you see how serious I am about this.”
His nostrils flare. “You’ll send those motherfuckers after my wife if I don’t agree to your terms?”
“I’ll do anything for my sister, Winston. Anything. And they’ll do anything for me. Please don’t test me.”
He studies me for a long beat. “Lionel doesn’t care about your sister. You realize you’re handing me everything on a silver platter. He was never going to go after her.”
“Maybe not,” I agree, “but I need assurance that he won’t wake up one day with a conscience. If it ever publicly gets out and he has a change of heart, I won’t take the risk.” I smack the folder. “She will be mine and your family will be left alone.”
We have a staring contest that makes my skin crawl. I refuse to back down or cower to this man. My dad was a monster, but I watched his every move and learned from the best. I refuse to let someone like Winston Constantine have control over my life. Never again will some rich bastard control or threaten me.
“Fine.” He lets out an agitated sigh. “You can have your way. But rest assured, my attorneys will have the paperwork drawn up so that you’ll never be able to try to squeeze money out of us later on down the road. This severs any and all relationship with our families.”
“I don’t want your money,” I remind him. “I have quite enough of my own.”
“Good. You’re dismissed.”
I laugh at his words. “It won’t be a secret swept under a rug, either. I’m going to tell Ty that Della is his cousin. He deserves to know because he cares about me—about us.”
I’m not sure what sort of games Dad was playing where Ty Constantine was concerned, but it’s evident that’s exactly what that was. He was useful, the right age, and a link to that family. Ty and I and Della were just props in his extravagant production. The show’s over now.
“Any other last demands?” Winston asks. “I have a lot of work to do.”
I rise to my feet, grabbing up my file. “Enjoy your little one. Tonight, when you’re with him, think about the lengths you’d go to protect him.” I offer my hand to which he shakes. “That’s how I feel about Della.”
She’s my sister—my flesh and blood—and I’d happily bring down anyone and everything who stands between me and her.
Even a powerful Constantine.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sully
Unbelievable. The news is unrelenting. Most recently, they’ve been heralding Alexander Croft as a well-loved family man brutally attacked by our brother.
“This is so unfair,” Landry grumbles. “I want to scream at them all and tell them what sort of man Dad really was.”
Sarah is doing what she can to get my brother off, but it’s going to take time. Landry and Della’s testimony of his abuse, coupled with the physical evidence they obtained at the hospital, the night of the incident, will help. However, because there were no recorded incidents on file with the police or at the hospital from before, it’s going to be difficult to prove. Right now, it’s just their word against Alexander’s reputation, which was otherwise impeccable. It’s a high-profile case, so every “t” will be crossed and every “i” dotted.
The only ace in our hole, and mark against Alexander, is the autopsy and toxicology report on Landry and Della’s mother. That, coupled with the paternity test showing who Della’s real father is, should be enough to prove Alexander had a motive to hurt the girls.
We need more.
Winston Constantine isn’t going to offer any help where Scout’s concerned. He did his one good deed of the year by negotiating with Landry and getting her full custody over Della. The rest, we’ll have to do on our own.
Scout is a psychopath, yes, but he’s our psychopath. It just doesn’t feel the same without him here with us. Everyone is gloomy and sad, especially Landry and Della. We want him back.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Sparrow reminds us from his recliner. Della is passed out, sprawled over him, with Heathen snuggled up between them. “Leo and Lucian have our backs.”
My mind drifts to yesterday when we met with them.
* * *
Sparrow is cool as a fucking cucumber. Meanwhile, I’m trying not to fidget under Lucian’s cutting stare. He’s colder than Leo. Almost unfeeling whereas Leo shows every damn feeling on his face.
Lucian is unreadable.
“So,” Lucian says finally, after making us wait for too damn long to be normal, “tell me again what my father was having you all do.”
“He had us burn down buildings,” Sparrow says, holding up a finger, “beat guys up.” He holds up another finger. “Oh, and try to destroy Alexander Croft from the inside out.” He lifts another finger. “But his most favorite thing was anything that might make you two mad.” A final finger lifts. “I think that about covers it.”