Hands begin rising all around the table as Harding watches on with wide eyes, shaking his head in fear. “No,” he rushes out as the final hand raises, making it a unanimous decision. “I will do time. I don’t want to die. Please, I beg of you. My children need me. My wife ...”
Cruz’s father scoffs. “Your wife is better off without you,” he says, looking at me with a sharp nod to get this underway.
I look back at Michael with disgust. “He’s right. Your wife is better off without you and no matter how much you beg, plead, or pray, you will be dying by my hand today.”
Michael slams his bound hands on the table, attempting to make a scene. “No. This is insane. Are we heathens? Barbarians? Fuck that. A court of law would sentence me to prison. Who are you to determine whether I live or die?”
“I’m your leader,” I growl, “and this is Dynasty, not a court of law. So don’t sit there looking at me like I’m committing some heinous crime against you. You stole my freedom, you stole my safety, and you took it upon yourself to determine whether I was to live or die. An eye for an eye, Harding, and today, the game just turned in my favor.”
“NO, I …”
I look to Grayson, standing ever so still behind his father. “Get him out of here. I will follow in a minute.”
Grayson nods and instantly starts moving toward Michael, and as he does, Cruz moves too, reading the situation probably better than us all and knowing that Michael isn’t going to go easily.
Michael stands and the men on either side of him grip his arms, holding him still as the boys move around the big table to grab him. He flicks his gaze around the room in a panic, desperately searching for a way out of this, looking for freedom or at the very least an ally, but he won’t find one here, not anymore.
Grayson and Cruz finally reach him, and as they start dragging him from the room, Michael looks back at me. “Wait. Wait. Please. The bylaws state that I am entitled to the chance to say goodbye to my family … my wife. Please.”
Grayson pulls on his arm as I look across at Earnest Brooks beside me. “Is that true? Do I have to allow him that?”
Earnest nods and I let out a sigh. “Fine. Your wife will be brought down to your holding cell where she will determine whether she would like the chance to say goodbye after the full situation has been explained to her in exact detail.”
Michael’s face breaks, making it clear that he hasn’t shared any of this bullshit with his wife, but I’m not surprised. How is that conversation even supposed to go? ‘Honey, after you pass the butter, do let me share with you how I’ve been fucking a psychotic bitch for the past twenty years and plotting to overtake the whole organization.’
Yeah, right. What a load of horse shit.
Michael is removed from the room, leaving me with only the heads of Dynasty, and as I look back at them, I let out a deep breath, hating just how hard that was. But with Carver and King’s eyes on me, I feel as though I can keep going. “While I have you all here, there are a few more matters that need to be discussed.”
“We’re all ears, Elodie,” Mr. Danforth says with a subtle nod of his head.
I glance around the room, meeting the eyes of every man who sits at my table. “At our last meeting following the death of Tobias King, it was discussed that the local law enforcement was sniffing around places they weren’t welcome. I need an update.”
Matthew Montgomery stands and meets my stare. “Harding was following this. However, I will assume the responsibility.” He pauses and I quickly realize that he’s searching for my approval and not having anyone else to dump the shitty jobs on, I nod, just wanting this meeting to be over with so I can go and deal with Harding and put an end to his betrayals. Montgomery continues. “As far as I am aware, the cops are still looking into us. However, there have been no more public nuisances that they can connect back to Dynasty. Their trails are beginning to go cold. Though our inside sources have mentioned whispers of the FBI, so this may not be over yet.”
Matthew sits, letting me know that’s all he’s got on the topic so far.
“Thank you,” I say with a small nod, pleasantly surprised that Matthew and I have the ability to exchange words without hostility and a bullshit argument. “Keep me updated on the situation. I want to know every single time one of those cops takes a shit.”