Fallen Empire (Dirty Empire)
She’s mine.
And nothing will be right in my life until she’s in my arms again.
Anger burns in my father’s eyes. His tolerance for this game is waning, too, it would seem. “She’s somewhere no one will find her unless I allow it.”
I force myself to take a deep, calming breath. “And what? You thought that if you kidnapped Mercy, I’d become your puppet? You say jump and I say how high?” Not that it hasn’t been the way things have worked up until now, but I’ve always done it reluctantly, while looking for a way to avoid it altogether.
“Listen to me, you little shit. I didn’t spend a lifetime of risking my freedom and ending up in here, only to rot while watching my two idiot sons piss away all that I’ve accomplished. It’s time you two grow up and step into the roles that I’ve carved out for you.”
“I didn’t ask for whatever you’ve been carving for me.”
“No, you’ve just happily reaped the harvest of it, haven’t you,” he sneers. “I’ve spent years taking care of you. Now you will take care of me while I’m stuck in here. That’s your responsibility. I’ve asked nicely to no avail. You’ve left me with no other choice, Gabriel.”
That simmering rage inside me begins to bubble. “So, blowing up our plane and abducting my girlfriend is on us, is it? This is all our fault? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” Typical narcissistic answer.
His eyes narrow. “It’s certainly insurance so that my dear loving sons guarantee my remaining years in this shithole are palatable.” I can’t help but note the emphasis on years. It’s as if he caught wind to what we’ve been planning with Vince and Merrick Perri. Maybe he has. Maybe that’s what all this is about, in which case I don’t have a right to be angry. “And now you’ll take your rightful spot at the head of the family. You and Caleb both. Your brother may have the temperament to survive this world, but you’re the level-headed one. The one who will hold everything together.”
Dad is nothing if not persistent, I’ll give him that. Then again, what else does the guy have to hold onto, sitting in his little concrete cell? He needs the Easton name thriving on the outside, or the ring of protection he’s cocooned himself in on the inside will vanish and he’ll just be another sad old criminal in a cage, only with too many enemies to count. “What about Peter? I think he’ll have something to say about us claiming that title. Everyone does what he says.” It’s always been Vlad and Peter Easton at the helm, and since Dad was locked up—thanks to Peter’s betrayal—Uncle Peter has managed the big decisions. All of our cousins and business associates answer to him, and he’s made it clear that he wants us out of the way.
“He is no longer an issue for us. Neither are those idiots he calls sons.” Dad’s flat, cold gaze says it all.
Bane must have found them. Busy hitman indeed. Has he already killed them? Dad seems unbothered by the fact that his brother and nephews are dead—or soon to be—by his order. But I don’t give a shit about my uncle or my cousins. Peter signed his death certificate the day he decided to betray his brother for his own gain. All I care about is seeing Mercy again, alive and safe, and I know my father won’t budge.
“Tell Bane to stay the hell away from her. You got that?” I warn.
“You two start behaving and I’ll have no reason to tell him otherwise.” Dad smirks. “But from what I’ve heard around here, even that sick son of a bitch might feel his little dick twitch at the sight of her—”
The metal chair legs scrape against the concrete floor as I bolt out of my chair and reach across the table. I grab my father by the collar of his prison-issue uniform and haul him forward, until our faces our inches apart. “If he lays a single finger on her,” I force through gritted teeth, “so help me God, I will end you—”
“Enough of this!” Dad shoves me away with force. He takes a moment to adjust his top button. “You’re wasting time, and we have important things to discuss.”
Of course. It’s always about the business. My father is an unmovable ten-tonne boulder. Threats have never swayed him.
I check the door and see Donny peeking through the tiny window. He must have heard the commotion. After the last visit and my sour mood, I’ll bet he’s worried he’ll have a dead body to explain. I pick my chair off the floor and take my seat again. “And what exactly do we have to discuss, father?”
He arranges his hands in a tent on the table in front of him. “Harriet’s escorts have informed me that they are no longer interested in their paid position.”