“I can see that.” And I can, because despite everything he’s been through over the past few years, with Stella by his side, he’s happier than I ever remember seeing him. They might be a match made in hell and have a relationship that I’m sure many would describe as toxic, but it works for them. They both smile wider when they’re together. They’re both stronger when they’re together. It’s equally as annoying as it is heart-warming.
Things are changing for all of us. And it’s happening faster than I thought it would.
We’re all heading toward the end of our time at Knight’s Ridge, and our futures are more than just a little up in the air.
Dad wants me to join him and work full-time for the Family. But I don’t. Not yet, at least. I know it’s my future, my destiny or what the fuck ever. But I’m not ready yet. It’s why I’ve got completed applications sitting on my computer at home for my chosen universities. They’re all in London, and all of them will allow me to continue working part-time as I am now. Nothing has to change. I just need to get Dad to see it the same way.
He’s always humoured my dreams to graduate, but I don’t think he ever really took my wishes seriously. He just thought I’d change my mind when the time came and he could set me up with a hand-picked role in the Family, and we’d be set. Well, the time is coming and he doesn’t seem quite so happy about the direction my future is heading in.
Apart from the woman he wants at my side—should she live that long, of course.
Ice fills my blood at the thought of what will happen to her should it turn out that she is lying to us. That she has been her mother’s accomplice all this time.
“Go find her when we’ve finished here. Talk to her.”
“I don’t know if—”
“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Cirillo. We all know what you want. You’re only lying to yourself by pretending you don’t know it too. Go find her and fucking finally take what you’ve been dreaming of for the past few months.”
My cock jerks at the thought of her hot, tight pussy. Fuck. She’s always wet for me, I can just imagine how she’d feel as I pushed into her, stretched her open.
“What’s the alternative? Going home alone to your pot of Vaseline?”
“You’re a fucking pain in my arse, Sebastian.”
“Yeah, yeah. Heard it all before,” he says with a smile, slapping me on the shoulder. “You can thank me later.”
“We’ll see,” I mutter, nodding at one of Dad’s associates who’s caught my eye across the room.
* * *
Ido my best at pushing thoughts of Emmie waiting for me in my flat out of my head as I work the room, greet people who’ve been in my life longer than I can even remember and say all the right things to our associates as Dad expects me to.
But by the time my shift finally comes to an end and I manage to slip from the casino, every single muscle in my body is pulled tight and my patience after all the bullshit ego-stroking is at an all-time low.
Jamming my finger into the lift call button, I watch as the numbers descend from the hotel room floors above me.
Excited chatter sounds out from behind me as patrons enjoy their night and everything the hotel and casino offer them, but I block it all out.
My only focus is on what the rest of my night is going to hold.
I wait until I’m alone in the lift before I pull my phone out and open Emmie’s tracking app.
I want her to be inside my flat, exactly as I told her to be.
I second-guessed myself more than once before I finally sent that request for her to be waiting for me.
It meant opening up my home to someone else. Something I’ve refused to do since moving in.
Even Seb doesn’t have access to my flat right now.
After having everyone and their wife in my space at the coach house, I just needed some solitude. But the promise of having Emmie in my bed again meant I uploaded her prints that I took when she was sleeping one night and allowed her access to both the building and my home.
I can’t say I’m not nervous about it.
If she’s done as she’s told then she could be snooping around my place right now. Although something tells me that she wouldn’t.
She’s not Sloane or Teagan. She doesn’t care about finding dirt on me, or something that can be used to get close to me.