Page 126 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
And … I think it might be needed. Very much so.
Our eyes meet.
He chucks my phone onto his desk.
“You want me to believe this shit?” he asks, and I stare right back at him with every ounce of conviction inside of me.
“Do or don’t. Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll go with my boys and deal with it. I will bring back Giulia Wolfe’s head. Literally, if necessary.”
Cat laughs at me, shaking his own head as he moves around the desk to stand a bit closer to me. Neither of us is unaware that all four of his officers are in the room with us. On that same note, neither of us looks their way or asks for their input.
“Boss,” Crown begins, and then when Cat’s gaze snaps his way, he falls silent. The only difference between now and say, six months ago, is that Crown will step in or speak up against his president’s wishes if that’s what it takes to save my ass. Actually, I think he still would’ve jumped in back then, but only if my literal life was on the line. This time, my heart and my desires matter, too.
“You want me to send the five of you off to play blackjack at the casino, huh? Why? So you can leave with your boyfriend and not come back?” Cat reaches out and puts his hand on my right shoulder, fingers digging into the leather of Beast’s jacket. He squeezes just hard enough to bruise but not so hard that I flinch or give away the pain he’s causing me.
I hear a tentative footstep behind me. Beast. He’s offering up a warning that Cat ignores.
My father leans down to look me right in the eyes.
“If you run from me, girl, I will follow you. You hear me? I will hunt you down and slit your throat myself.”
“Should I be surprised by that?” I quip back, and Cat releases me abruptly.
“Crown, prepare a small team. Maybe a dozen or so men.” Cat moves back behind his desk, his eyes on the spot where that bottle of India ink used to sit, the same bottle that I threw in his son’s face and probably saved my own life with.
“Sir?” Crown queries. I glance back to see his face split into equal parts eagerness and trepidation. Sin and Grainger actually share a look amongst themselves that concerns me.
“We’ll go in on Friday,” Cat declares, ignoring Grey’s carefully typed out advice on the series of recent text messages. He looks up at me. “You’ll go with us.”
The tension from the four men standing behind me is palpable, so thick you could cut it with a knife. I imagine their glares like bullets in ballistics gel, cutting sharp channels through the clear blocks of distrust that comprise the charged air between them and their president.
“Me?” I query back, trying not to be pleased that Cat has literally just made this a non-issue for me. I don’t need to argue with the guys—I would hope that after our last talk, there wouldn’t be much arguing at all, but I know them too well to really believe that—I’m going regardless.
“This is your intel, ain’t it?” He looks at me like he’s daring me to challenge him right now, but we both know this isn’t some sort of reward. It’s a test. Cat is testing me and his officers all in one fell swoop.
“Can I make a suggestion?” I offer up, and he laughs at me again.
“No. Get the fuck out of my office.” Cat waves us away, but I already have an idea, and I want to execute it.
“Let me dress up. A nice wig. A dress. A date on my arm. I can walk right into that fucking casino without anyone being the wiser.”
“You’re not even old enough to set foot in a casino,” Crown offers up, his voice disturbingly empty of emotion. I glance back at him with a raised brow.
“Like I’ll be carded. I know what I look like. The right makeup, the right hair, I’m twenty-five, easy.” I turn to Cat again. “Anyway, it’s not like I don’t have a fake ID. A good one, too.”
“Of course you do,” Cat replies, looking me over. He shrugs then. “You know what? I like this idea. We can sit safely outside while you waltz into the resort and take a look around.” He snaps his fingers in Sin’s direction. “Find someone young, a prospect that won’t be recognized. That’ll be her date.”
“Letting her walk in there when the mafia wants her more than they want your ass?” Beast offers up, speaking out when he very rarely does. “Seems like a good way for Gidget to die.”
“At this point,” Cat says, looking up and then letting his gaze rest firmly on my husband’s. “If she doesn’t go into that casino, she’s going to die. Get the fuck out of my office.”
