The fathers, on the other hand… Well, I could tell that all of them were half amused and half worried about losing their sons to Mr. Aldridge’s temperament. The man was sitting with Mr. Gates, talking quietly but seemingly in good spirits. Mr. Ross and my own father were in the office right next door, handling a legal issue with the city before the conversation we needed to have. I briefly noticed that Stratton and Dermot had stepped outside to smoke, something I was glad for. Somehow I had a feeling we would get more shit for smoking around Dahlia than for the violence she had seen in the past week.
Speaking of violence, King crossed the room, offering me a tumbler of amber liquid that I took without a second thought. I shot it back, feeling oddly more on edge now that everything seemed at peace. Something would happen, I had no doubt. That wasn’t me being negative, either—I loved the peace and serenity most of our life had, but this didn’t feel like that. There was something on the horizon, I just wasn’t sure what that was.
“This is how it’s going to be forever, you know that?” I nodded towards the room. King smiled and sat down in the chair next to me.
“This is how it’s meant to be.”
When elegant hands came down on my shoulders, I tipped my head back to find Dahlia looking at both of us with a soft, affectionate light in her eyes. There was an excited flush to her face, and the woman was nearly glowing with energy. It was so beautiful that it was almost easy to forget about the bruising on her jaw.
Almost.
“You both look so serious,” she teased, coming to sit on my lap as King gently pulled her long legs up into his own.
“Just enjoying the peace.”
She smiled softly, her lips causing me to get distracted for a moment.
I was tempted to kiss her, but I didn’t want to push it just yet. I knew that Mr. Aldridge could easily get upset if he felt like we were being disrespectful, and I didn’t want that. I knew how much Dahlia’s parents’ opinions meant to her, so I wanted to do everything I could to keep it a positive experience…even if I had casually admitted to my not-so-small obsession with their daughter.
Before I could kiss her, the office doors opened up, my dad and Torin Ross coming to stand in front of the rest of the room. I turned, and Dahlia curled against my chest, my fingers stringing through her hair. I was curious to know how they would address the insanity of what had occurred the past few days. I mean, it wasn’t just Dahlia who was being exposed to all of this, and while I knew most of the moms were aware, I think this was the first time it had been so open with all of us here in the compound.
In the past two days, nothing had been hidden as we all tied up loose ends with the situation in Ardara. I knew the plan moving forward, specifically the one for the seven of us, but I wanted to know how Mr. Ross thought we should handle all this. There weren’t many people, older than me or not, that I would listen to, but Torin Ross I would.
I knew what the man was capable of and what his priorities were.
“Before we eat dinner,” Torin said, calling the attention of everyone in the room, “let’s talk quickly about the plan moving forward.”
Once he was sure all eyes were focused on him, he began. “For the next week, the group of us are going to stay here, tying up some loose ends and making sure the media and any of the possible issues from this event disappear.”
King shifted, no doubt going to say that we could handle it, but his father shook his head, which meant that he had a larger reason for wanting us gone and not just to ‘tie up loose ends.’
“You seven have enough attention on you right now, so I want to keep this out of the limelight, which means you need to leave, for your sakes and for the sake of restoring peace. All the situations on this end have been handled, and I would like us to move on.”
He wasn’t wrong. Every single one had been handled.
Ian was dead.
Patrick was dead.
Everyone who had been loyal to Patrick was dead.
Even George was dead, and not because of the pain we’d inflicted on him.
No, the stupid bastard had broken out of the chair, and our security had followed orders and shot him on the spot when he tried to leave the basement. I didn’t feel bad about that.
The final loose end though? Ian’s father, the man in the helicopter, was dead.
Last night, we had dragged him down into the basement, where Mr. Ross no doubt took great satisfaction in making him scream. I had seen a lot of versions of Torin Ross, but last night seemed extremely personal, and I had a feeling it had to do with his wife’s connection to Ian’s father. Haven had stood there watching every moment of the torture, only solidifying my theory.
“So where do you want us to go?” I asked curiously, wondering if they wanted us to go home. I wasn’t opposed to the idea—fuck, I would love to get Dahlia in my actual bed—but I didn’t think the attention issue would be any better there.
Maybe we needed to get used to the media aspect. It was possible, considering who we were and our relationship, that it would always be a problem.
“I would like you to go to our house in Monaco,” Mr. Ross said simply. “At least reroute through there for a day or so. I have been made aware you need to get back, partly because of school—” the other part because of the FBI issue, no doubt “—but if you spent a couple of days there, it would pull the media attention away since most of them aren’t allowed into there.”
It was true—in Monaco, we would blend in with everyone else who had stupid amounts of money.
“Are you okay with that?” I asked Dahlia. She nodded, looking more relaxed. I had a feeling our girl needed to get out of here. It was a lot at once; I didn’t blame her.