Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
And I know my father isn’t bluffing, so something has got to give.
I spin a few things in my head, use my training, and act as calm as ever, without a care in the fucking world—my go-to response.
“You wanted it to look like we had weak spots, right?” I lift a single shoulder, sweeping a hand out as if to add a bratty duh.
Wrong thing to say.
My father’s eyes flash, flicking to the side where the others hover without letting them know he is looking. He doesn’t want them to know he’s baiting a bull.
“Leave us,” he forces through clenched teeth, and everyone moves at once.
You don’t deny Rayo Revenaw, and surely not when it concerns his daughters.
The only one who stays behind is my sister, but apparently, he doesn’t even want her to overhear as the moment he realizes, he snaps his head over his shoulder. “You brought this to our feet. Now, go.”
Tears well in my sister’s eyes and I frown but wipe it away when my father looks at me.
“What’s going on?” I ask once she’s gone.
“I received a copy of a manifest this morning. Enzo’s name was on it.”
My blood pumps a little faster. “So, he’s coming then?”
“I expect he is.”
“And why were we not warned this morning?” I push. “Did you tell the girls? Boston? She needs to know.”
“She has done her part.”
Done her part?
Confusion has my gaze narrowing, but his hardens.
“Dad?”
He clenches his jaw, presses his lips together and then spins, raking his hands through his hair, the first true sign of distress he’s shown when it comes to Enzo.
When he turns back to me, his features are crestfallen.
Unease trickles along my spine, weighing me down. “Dad …”
His shoulders fall, and then he’s gripping mine, his hold too gentle.
“I am not the man I was twenty years ago. I’m getting older, and with that, I will become weaker than the young. I cannot leave you in this world unprotected,” he repeats for the third time, his voice nothing but a tragic whisper.
“I’m not unprotected.” I expect to sound strong and sure because I don’t doubt what I’m saying in the slightest, yet my words are meek.
“Rocco,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “You are the daughter I wished for. I gave away … much in life to lead you to where you are, and you did not disappoint. You are everything I meant for you to be and more. Strong. Determined. Smart. Everything a partner would wish for, and as my successor, all the enemy would need to end us, so we must do what we can to prevent such a thing from happening. A woman as powerful as you will have a man of equal power at her side.”
My face falls and I take a step away.
My father eyes me for several unnerving moments, and before I can question him, he stands tall.
Gone are the deep wrinkle lines of worry and the haze of concern in his gaze. His shoulders widen, as does his stance, the no-bullshit kingpin of the north now before me, my father long gone.
“The gala is two nights from now.”
I think of how easily Bastian slipped in. How he continues to do so. “Is it really smart to move forward with the event, knowing Enzo might be on his way back to the States?”
My father rolls on as if I haven’t spoken. “You will not leave the house until then, and to make sure, I will be placing a guard outside your door. On top of that, I will be the one who picks you up. You will wear what I send over for you, and you will not fight me. You may be in charge when it comes to matters of a Greyson, but you are in charge nowhere else.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Focus on what I have told you.” He gives a single curt nod and moves for the door. He tugs it open, eyes finding mine over his shoulder. “The enemy is coming, daughter. Be ready to do as you must.”
With that, he leaves, the door swinging right back open as not one but four of his guards step through.
Fuck my life.
Chapter 22
Rocklin
Many times my father shocked me when it came to Boston, like when he didn’t send her to a convent after she shared how she approached Enzo Fikile alone on Alcatraz Island to propose a union between the two. Or when she agreed to the contractual marriage that ended before it began for the most recent examples. He had to know this would happen, that she would bail and choose herself over her responsibilities.
It isn’t new for her.
Boston always had a knack for doing the opposite of what she was told. It’s an odd dynamic really, because she’s seen as the weak one. The “lesser” twin, and while I’m pissed at her decisions lately, I also admire my sister. She’s blinding in an effortless way, even when she sinks into herself with episodes of depression or doubt. She’s my mother and I’m my father. She’s nurturing and I’m … hard. There have been times when I envied her lack of fucks when it came to training or topping the chart in academia. She never fought for our father’s approval, whereas most of my life has been one move after another, reaching for it because he continuously set a new goal in front of me, waiting for me to reach it.