I circle to keep him in front of me, stepping back when he lunges for me. “I don’t think so,” I say. “You’re injured, and I’m not. Stay back, or you’ll end up in even worse shape.”
“I guess I’ll get to see you die after all,” he says. “Tonight’s as good a day as any. And it’s way past time you were out of our lives. You were supposed to disappear the day I put that bomb in Royal’s engine.”
“You did that?” I ask, gaping with shock. “Why? He could have been hurt.”
“You think I don’t know my way around an explosive? If I wanted to watch his car go up in a fireball, I’d have made it happen, sweetheart. I just needed to remind him where you stood—that you were a Darling—so he’d get his head out of his ass and let us get rid of you once and for all. The swamp was supposed to do it, too, but you’re too stupid to stay away even after that.”
“Or maybe you’re too stupid to accept that Royal and I love each other,” I say, bending to slide my knife into my boot. “That triumphs over everything—even what you did to me. You and your psycho twin would understand that if you were capable of loving anyone but yourselves.”
“Oh, we loved someone,” he says, backing me into the alcove at the front doors of the restaurant. “And you know what happened to her? We let her go, because she was a Darling, and we’re Dolces. You’re too naïve to realize it, but Royal will do the same to you. Family always comes first. Always.”
“Yeah, well, not for me,” I say, bracing my back against the glass and planting my feet wide, letting him come up on me. “Our love comes first.”
He makes a grab for me, and I swing with my left hand. He’s ready, though, and he blocks the blow. Before he can recover, I twist my hips, using all the power in my body to drive my right fist up. The brass knuckles cradle my hand in their protective embrace as they slam into his jaw with an uppercut that’s truly a thing of beauty.
“Sucker,” I mutter as he crumples to the floor, his head smacking the tiles with a sickening thud. “By now you should know I’m right-handed.”
Leaving his body, I turn and duck back into the restaurant, heading straight for the kitchen door.
twenty-nine
Royal Dolce
The door bursts open, and I look up, but it’s not Baron coming back to help.
It’s Harper.
Dad wheels around, his gun in his hand before I can even reach for mine. He levels it at Harper, and a red-hot brand sears into my cold soul. If I were close enough to reach him, I’d shove the gun down his throat and splatter his brains on the wall, but I’m halfway across the fucking room while he holds a gun on her.
“Royal,” she says, her shoulders sinking. “Thank fuck. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I snap. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Dad gestures at her with the gun. “Baron was supposed to get rid of you.”
“Yeah, in case your sons haven’t told you, I’m not so good at taking orders,” she says, seemingly oblivious to the gun pointed her way. “That includes being told to fuck off.”
“This doesn’t concern you,” he says.
She glances around at the metal equipment and the open boxes on the floor. “It concerns Royal, so it concerns me,” she says. “So, what are we doing?”
“Get out,” I say flatly.
She strolls over and kicks a box lightly with her toe. “Candy?”
Dad turns, following her path with the barrel of the gun. “You heard my son,” he says. “We don’t have time for your interruptions.”
I watch Harper’s gaze move back to the equipment that stretches across the room, to the chute above the long stainless-steel table where I’m packaging the product, and finally lifting to me.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks, and I can read the disappointment all over her face.
“It pays better than candy,” Dad says, picking up an iridescent, pale blue bead from the table. “Do you know how many Dolce Drops I have to sell to make the same profit as one of these little pearls?”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” she says, her gaze never wavering from me.
I seal a bag and toss it into the box of candy, staring back at her without flinching. “You wanted to be part of my life,” I say flatly. “I tried to keep you out of the shady side of Dolce Sweets, but if you’re going to put yourself in the middle of it, here it is. Welcome to the fucking family.”
I slide my hands over the hundreds of blue pearls on the table, making sure they’re only one layer deep where I’m working.