We all take a seat at the dining table, and not long after, Grandpa comes into the dining room.
A wide smile curves his lips. “The lost son has returned.”
“Lost my ass,” I mutter playfully as I rise to my feet to hug the man who might not be blood-related but is like a grandfather to me.
Cillian and Dana practically raised my mother, and I grew up thinking of them as my grandparents.
Grandma brings the food to the table, and after we’ve all helped ourselves, Dad asks, “Have you spoken to the new dealer in Congo?”
“Yes.” I wipe the corners of my mouth. “There’s a meeting set for two months from now.”
Dad’s eyes narrow on me. “But?”
I shrug. “My gut tells me there’s something off about the deal. Tshimaga is too forthcoming for my liking.”
Dad nods before he says, “Then we’ll all go. If anything goes wrong, the rebels won’t know what hit them.”
“Yes,” Mom agrees as she gives Dad’s hand a squeeze. “They won’t stand a chance against all of us.”
We eat in silence for a moment before Dad asks, “Are you at least enjoying being an instructor at St. Monarch’s?”
Not hesitating, I shake my head. “I don’t have the patience for it. The attendees are driving me insane. The only reason I'm doing it is for Uncle Carson.”
“Oh no,” Mom coos. “It’s a shame.”
Dad frowns at me. “How are the attendees driving you insane?”
I cut through the steak on my plate. “Abigail and Aurora have zero fighting experience.” I glance at my parents. “They weren’t raised the same as Inna and me. It’s pathetic.”
“Oh.” Mom tilts her head, her eyes locking on my face. “Why does it bother you?”
I shrug. “I just hate training them. It’s tedious.” A smile curves my lips as I say, “Luckily, I’ll be done with them in two months, and they’ll be someone else's problem.”
After dinner, I enjoy a tumbler of whiskey with Dad, and as if Mom’s nagging isn’t enough, he asks, “Still no woman out there that’s caught your eye?”
Abigail’s face flashes through my mind, and frowning at the unwelcome thought, I shake my head. “I’m happy with my bachelor status.”
Dad nods, his eyes searching mine. “There’s something bothering you. Out with it.”
I shrug as I set the empty tumbler down on the side table. “I’m just worried about the deal with Tshimaga.”
“No, it’s something else,” Dad argues, his eyes sharpening even more on me.
Knowing he’ll keep pushing until I give in, I admit, “Abigail Sartori annoys the living fuck out of me. Half the time, I’m tempted to carry out the hit on her life myself.”
Dad’s eyebrows fly into his hairline. “Is that so?”
I immediately shake my head. “Hell to the fuck no.” A smile starts to curve his lips which has me muttering, “The woman is nothing more than a thorn in my side.”
Dad nods, but I can see he doesn’t believe me.
“She’s the enemy,” I remind him.
“So was your mother.” He waves a hand at the doorway. “And look where we are now.”
Like a fucking idiot, I blink at my father. “There’s no way. The girl is eighteen years younger than me. I don’t rob cradles.”
Dad lifts the tumbler to his lips and takes a sip before saying, “As long as both parties are consenting adults, age doesn’t matter.”