“You don’t even hear yourself, do you? Have you ever even once in your life acknowledged when you’ve done something to hurt another person?”
“You’re overreacting.”
He didn’t get it, and as far as she was concerned, he never would.
“I’m done with this, Uilleam.”
“Be sure about that, poppet, because I won’t give you a second chance to walk away from me. If you leave now, don’t come back.”
Yet he had given her no reason to stay.
There would always be this flawed, broken thing between them, but now … she no longer wanted to try to fix it.
32
A King’s Work
It wasn’t easy being king, but oh was he enjoying the fruits of his labor.
It was amazing what all he could accomplish when nothing distracted him.
And with the mood he found himself in most days, it was easier to tap into his darker thoughts to get what he wanted.
He was certainly less forgiving than he had been before, and he had far less time to deal with anyone else’s bullshit.
What he asked for, he got.
And if someone decided they weren’t ready to play his game, he dealt with them accordingly.
Tough decisions had to be made—decisions not for the faint of heart.
And now, his name was no longer just a whispered, well-kept secret. It spread like a virus, infecting anyone who knew what it meant.
He wasn’t seeking friends or associates.
He cultivated envious strangers, unwilling partners, and people who would much rather see his fall than watch him rise.
Curse of the occupation.
But he rather liked the challenge
“Gonna be one of those days?” Skorpion asked, boldly meeting his stare when Uilleam’s eyes cut to him.
Already, he missed the solitude of his own thoughts. “Whatever you feel entitled to share, keep it to yourself.”
“Why the hell would I do that?” he asked unabashedly. “You’re standing right there. If you’re going to be in a shit mood, I at least get to comment on it.”
Perhaps it would have been better if he hadn’t treated him as a friend. The lines should have been clearer.
The last time he would ever make that mistake again.
He didn’t need to be friends with the men under his employ. He only needed their willful, obedient subservience.
“Is there anything else you would like to add?” Because they both knew once he was tired of entertaining the conversation, the topic would be finished.
“People go through a lot of useless shit instead of just apologizing.”
The last thing he needed right now was a lecture. Especially about a woman who set fire to his blood. “I extended one,” he said, the only thing he would say on the subject.
“If it was anything like your other ones, I wouldn’t have accepted the shit either.”
“Could we fucking not?”
Skorpion soldiered on. “Don’t put yourself through useless pain when you can make it better. When you wait too long, you risk running out of time.”
A month.
He had already lost that much.
He could still remember the look on her face the last time he saw her. The way she had looked so incredibly hurt by him as he’d attempted to deliver even a fourth of what he’d felt when he realized she had left him.
Not his finest hour, sure, but he had still been rather tame, he thought.
“I’ll get to it,” he said to end the conversation.
And he had every intention to, but at the moment, it seemed it would be better if he took care of this first before he attempted to fix things with her. He didn’t want there to be another interference.
The lounge he entered in Hell’s Kitchen smelled of Cuban cigars and expensive bourbon—the sort of place his father would have liked to frequent.
Uilleam didn’t particularly mind the venue—he was willing to go just about anywhere for a meeting—but he didn’t like that it reminded him of his father.
That never sat well with him.
Up ahead, seated at a private booth in the corner, was the man he had come to meet with.
Jordan Omerti.
CEO of a multibillion-dollar conglomerate with connections in the government and with every major crime boss in the city. He played both sides and was rather good at doing it.
Considering he had agreed to meet, Uilleam didn’t consider him an enemy.
Yet.
But as he crossed the floor with Skorpion behind him, he did consider how easy it would be to just have the man shot and take what he wanted.
To watch a bullet rip from the chamber of the gun he carried and bury itself inside the man’s forehead, tearing through bone and mush until it exited out the back of his head. But the violence he wanted to inflict wasn’t because the man had done anything to him specifically.
It was just the current state he’d found himself in ever since …
Back to Karina.
He needed to forget about her. For now, at least. “Mr. Omerti. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance officially.”
Everything about the man was painfully average. From his height, to his unimpressive build in a suit that was a touch too big, and even his mousy brown hair that was thinning slightly at the top.
But his appearance didn’t matter very much, considering the man’s net worth due to his imports. It was because he looked so unassuming that people underestimated him—or didn’t think he was as ruthless as he was.
He had the power, after all.
“I’m glad we could meet under new circumstances,” the man said with a telling smile.
As if Uilleam really needed a reminder of just how many people his father had crossed in his too long life. “Agreed. Please,” he said, gesturing to the chair opposite him. “Let’s talk. I was just having lunch.”
Omerti had the sort of expression that never betrayed what he was thinking. It was rather alarming how serene he looked—as if he hadn’t a care in the world despite the fact that there were more than a dozen people trying to kill him at any one time.
No one had been successful just yet.
Hell, the only reason he had agreed to this meeting was because Uilleam had his mercenaries, and the way it stood, no one was getting past them.
“I heard about your troubles in Paris,” he said conversationally, folding his hands in his lap.
Again with fucking Paris … “A miscommunication,” he answered simply. “Nothing to concern yourself about.”
Certainly nothing he wanted to discuss again. Not when she had been there during those days.
“Then let’s talk. Make me an offer, Uilleam. I’ll gladly consider it.”
“I will, so long as I’m the only offer you’ll consider.”
Uilleam was used to quick denials. Men who were so eager to do business with him that they would do anything.
But he didn’t deny he was talking with someone, only smiled. “I haven’t made any decisions. Whoever I think gets me the better deal is who I’m going with.”
Fair enough.
Even if he didn’t like it.
“I want your London connections,” Uilleam said immediately. Removing as many obstacles at present would allow him to expand quicker. “If we can come to an agreement about that, I might be persuaded to see that your company’s profits rise by ten percent in the next quarter.”
His brows shot up, already calculating that number in his head.
Ten percent wasn’t a small number by any stretch of the imagination. He was all but guaranteeing more than seven-hundred million dollars in three months.
But every penny would be worth it.
Especially with the money he would be making off the top of it.
He might not have had the woman he wanted in his life, but he would damn sure have everything else.
33
Family
It was hard not to feel like the
prodigal child returned home.
And unfortunately, Karina no longer had an excuse to avoid her mother or the demands she made of Karina. Without her work at the paper, and with her relationship with Uilleam basically over, there was, quite literally, no reason not to go when she called.
Which was how she found herself in the car next to Isla on her way home for the first time in nearly two years.
Nothing had changed in all the time she was gone. Not the cobblestone driveway that wound through the flowerless cherry blossom trees toward an estate that Karina was sure would rival Uilleam’s. She had never asked how her mother had come by the property—another one of the bits she had never felt comfortable inquiring about—but of all the places they had lived, this one felt the most like home.
Even as it had never felt quite like her own.
It was as if she had gone back in time and never left, but it could never be that way. Not really. She had been gone too long, and she wasn’t the same girl she had been when she left.
She was … changed.
Karina was the first out of the car as she eyed the fountain where two men seemed to be making repairs on it. Neither looked up at their arrival.
Katherine’s instructions, she guessed.
Her mother wasn’t often kind to those she perceived as the “help.”
“Don’t worry,” Isla said as she joined her after circling the car. “Your room is exactly the same as you left it.”
She almost wished it wasn’t.
“Mother’s just inside,” Isla said, her demeanor changing the closer they got to the door.
They both did it.
She was sure. Fixing their appearance, they straightened their skirts or checked for lipstick smudges in whatever reflective surface was closest.
She had always wondered if there would ever come a time when she wouldn’t feel that need.
Now that she was inside, she could see that some things had changed in her absence. There was the new eggshell colored paint on the walls, or the new floors that spanned the hallways and led up the many towering staircases. Even the gilded frames hung up along the walls were different.
And worth a lot more than the ones that had been in their place before.
Business was good.
Despite the talk she’d had with herself on the plane—and even the multiple she’d had in the car ride from the airstrip—she still felt out of place being here, readying to learn everything there was to know about how her mother had acquired her fortune?
There were plenty of beautiful women in the world, she always said—everything a lesson with her—but not all of them knew how to use it to their advantage.
“If it isn’t my beautiful daughter, Karina,” Katherine announced, appearing at the end of the hallway, the kimono she wore fluttering behind her.
The maid that was in the room dusting the drapes quickly made her exit, her gaze going to the floor as she passed Katherine along the way.
Karina frowned at the sight.
“Congratulations, Isla,” Katherine said, even as she engulfed Karina in a suffocating hold. “You managed to do something even I couldn’t.”
“I’ve always hoped to be good at something,” Isla muttered dryly, making Karina want to laugh.
“We can talk in the ballroom,” she said warmly, gesturing for them both to follow her.
It was as if she had never left.
Once again, she found herself walking Ashworth Hall, trailing behind her mother as she awaited whatever lessons would come that day.
It wasn’t an entirely welcome feeling.
Not to mention, she wasn’t particularly ready to discuss why she was here in the first place, though she knew the questions were coming.
Katherine flung the doors to the ballroom open, revealing the lengthy table made of dark ebony that took up the center of the room. It was a thing of beauty even as masculine as it looked. She gestured for them to sit.
A seat at the table.
Funny that she had tried to avoid this all of her life—run from it, as far as she possibly could. Yet here she was once again. Only, she had come back freely and of her own volition.
Katherine looked entirely too pleased as she sat at the head of the marble table, folding her hands on top of one another as she regarded them both.
Isla looked far more comfortable as she took her seat, her wavy hair falling over her shoulders as she turned to glance in Karina's direction.
It was a subtle thing, that look—one meant to gauge how she was feeling about being back rather than outright asking.
Karina forced a smile in return before she very carefully lowered herself into the wingback chair.
“It’s wonderful to finally have you home,” Katherine said warmly—or as warm as she was capable of being. “There’s so much left for you to learn.”
She wished, not for the first time, that the thought excited her. That she wanted to learn about what had made her mother so successful, but no matter how hard she tried, the spark just wasn't there.
Or at least it hadn’t been until now.
Until Uilleam had given her a reason to learn what all she didn’t already know.
“I wouldn’t say I’m home just yet, Mother,” she said gently. “I still have a life back in New York.” Even if it was currently in shambles.
“You don’t mean to tell me you’re thinking of staying with him, do you? I mean, what exactly is there worth going back for?”
Considering all she had gone through over the last month or so, that didn’t hurt her nearly as much as it would have before.
“How on earth have you let this man blind you?”
And this was why she avoided coming home—because of these conversations that always felt more like put-downs.
“Uilleam isn’t the reason I left, Mother.”
“But he’s certainly the reason you’ve come home, isn’t he?”
Karina’s gaze cut to Isla who very quickly gave a look that meant she hadn’t said a word.
“No, your sister didn’t have to say anything for me to know.”
Katherine wasn’t a gloater. She wasn’t the sort to say I told you so, but she certainly had a way of making it seem as if she had said it all the same.
“Can we move on, please?”
“Whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re here now,” Katherine said moving on. “More importantly, now would be a perfect time for you to learn whether or not the family is where you would like to be.”
Only her mother could make it sound as if she was abandoning her birthright by not going along with Katherine’s plans for her life.
But she did say she would try—that once her time in New York was up, she would at least give an effort to see things her way.
She didn’t really have much more to do at the moment, did she?
Karina sighed. “What do you have in mind?”
Jordan Omerti.
His name wasn’t one she was already familiar with, but he sounded interesting enough on paper to pique Karina’s curiosity.
“I only need you to meet with him,” her mother had said as they’d sat around the table. “I have the deal already secured. Now, it’s just a matter of figuring out the details.”
More than anything, Karina was trying to find the reason the man was worthy of doing business with. Growing up, she had never asked questions about what Katherine did, who she did it with, or even when it happened, considering she vividly remembered her being around very often.
Now was her chance.
But she didn’t want to just ask questions. She wanted to infer.
Which was why she was tucked away in the library with a mountain of information around her—and not just on the man Katherine wanted her to focus on.
At a minimum, they were all powerful men in positions that afforded them a lot of authority.
Very much like the people Uilleam targeted.
Some were widowed, others were married, and a variety were single and da
ting—so it wasn’t their relationship status that drew her in.
What else was there?
In many ways, what she was doing now felt very much like what she had done for the paper. Researching the person she would do a story on. Talking to them and getting as much information as she could until she presented the product at the very end of it.
She had two days to finish this stage of it—two weeks before she met with the man in person, and they finalized the details that Katherine spoke about.
He was expecting her, she said.
Though, she couldn’t help but wonder why she was meeting the man at all, considering Katherine had all but said the deal was guaranteed, whatever it was. It didn’t make sense that she not finish out with her own client and just have Karina work on something else.
But she didn’t complain because at least this would be easy enough for her to do.
She also knew that her mother wouldn’t be above trying to show her an easier job just so she would do it.
A yawn made her shut her eyes against the newest article she was reading.
Shifting positions, she tried to focus on what she was reading, to gather more context, but before she could, her eyes slid shut.
“Did you fall asleep again?”
Karina blinked, glancing over at the pages she’d been reading.
One minute she had been reading about Omerti’s business extension into Staten Island, and the next, she was waking up with Isla looming over her.
“Sorry, did you say something?”
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Isla said thoughtfully, her voice softer now.
“Doing what?” she asked sitting up, feeling that unnatural turn of her stomach as she did so.
She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d had motion sickness before—perhaps the first time she’d been on a boat—but nothing like this. A couple of weeks ago, she had blamed it on the salmon she ate at a restaurant with Isla, thinking it was food poisoning, but now she wasn’t so sure.
“Look at me.”
“What?”
Isla moved to stand in front of her, forcing her to look up at her.
White Rabbit Page 32
