Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“If it was us, you would have known by now,” my father offers. “We’re too busy with our own shit to start some with your family.”
Hector reaches out to pick up his steak knife, turning the blade back and forth a few times. “Forgive me if I say I can’t trust it. There was no secret you didn’t care for Mason and the way he did business in this city. The murder happened in your territory, after all, so you either prove your loyalty, or we’re going to have a problem.”
My father mutters an Italian curse word under his breath. That’s the first sign his anger is spiking. The second is a pink tint to his neck, which springs up just above the collar of his black shirt. If he opens his mouth now, whatever peace we had over the past decade will be as cooked as the uneaten shrimp.
I speak for the first time since the conversation began. “Father, if I may.”
Silvano looks at me and gives me a terse nod.
“We want to find the culprit as much as you do,” I offer Hector with an easygoing smile. “We don’t take too kindly to people who use Frost property to do their business. If the stadium gets labeled as a bad neighborhood, then that doesn’t help us, now does it?”
“What’s your offer?” Hector challenges, still holding onto the knife.
“We’ll look into the murder ourselves, find the culprit, and dispose of them.”
“The police are already looking into it.”
My father laughs so loud it’s like a bark. “That’s a good one, Hector. Police actually doing their jobs?”
“Trying to lighten the mood,” he shoots in return before gesturing his chin toward me. “You’ll be on it yourself.”
I nod. “You have my word.”
“Words don’t mean shit without a little collateral.”
Hector opens his phone, fishes through a few things, then pushes the phone across the table.
On the screen is his eldest daughter, Fiora Godwin.
I recognize her immediately. How can I not remember the woman who has damn near been haunting me since I first hunted her in Heathens Hollow? Her narrowed dark eyes were full of lust and wild abandon. Here, they’re more playful and happy. Her long black hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, and her white shirt fits to her full, perfect frame. She is an attractive woman, someone who is worthy of being on my arm.
But women like her are a dime a dozen in Seattle. Rich women with too much money and too much time. Women who call the paps just to keep their names in the tabloids. I can name two off the top of my head who would practically jump on my dick if I gave the word. Yes, she has something darker and more interesting lurking beneath the surface. Something that had her participating in The Hunt and even hiding out from the Godwin family. But the fact remains—she’s still a spoiled rich girl belonging to a family with far too much power.
When I take too long to answer, Hector taps Fiora’s face. “Here’s how you prove your loyalty.”
I know what he means immediately. Tying our two families together with an arranged marriage. It’s an enticing offer. The Frosts have a lot of Seattle, but the Godwins have more. Much more. Meaning, with a direct tie to the family, I could expand our line of hotels further. Sam and Dad could get a few extra businesses to ship their goods. The Frosts would have extra backup with the Godwin name behind us.
But it also means answering to Hector Godwin.
“How’s this prove our loyalty?” I ask.
“By putting up a united front.” Hector skewers a shrimp with his fork before taking a bite, speaking between mouthfuls. “Cementing power over most of Seattle. I offer my daughter; you offer your pledge to my family.”
“Does she know about this?”
“She doesn’t need to,” he answers with a laugh. “It’s my call to make, not hers. You know how this is done, and so does she.”
I turn in my chair to regard my father. He’s been awfully silent, but that’s no surprise. He and my mother had an arranged marriage that brought him to the city in the first place. Marriage in wealthy families doesn’t mean love, butterflies, or any of that bullshit. It means money, power, and the right to rule.
I’ve somehow avoided marriage at my age, but doesn’t mean it’s avoidable forever. When I turned forty, my mother cried and lectured me on the importance of bloodline and lineage and other bullshit I tried to block out of my head. Owning The Vault and marriage don’t exactly go hand in hand.
But things could turn awful, and fast, if I refuse.
The Godwins own Heathens Hollow. We simply lease the space. They could destroy The Vault, and my business partners would suffer all because I couldn’t follow through on something that is inevitably my fate.