Page 12 of Ice & Steel

He chewed his lip. “You work a lot.”

“Someday you will too,” I said, ruffling his hair.

He squirmed, brushing it back into place. “Am I going to be like you, dad?”

“I fucking hope not,” I said before I could bite the words back.

He gasped, putting his finger across his lips. “Mom says not to say that.”

I laughed once. “Your mother is a good woman. She’s right. Don’t say that.”

“But you did.” He frowned.

“I am not a good person,” I said. “But for you, I’ll be better.”

Something flickered through his cool, hazel gaze. “Will I be like that someday? Not a good person?”

My throat felt tight. I cleared it. “No, you’ll be just like your mother, Marco. If you ever have to pick…always pick being like your mother.”

His eyes remained sober. Watching me like he was trying to figure me out.

“Am I going to be the boss someday?” he asked quietly. “Like you?”

I froze, unsure how to answer that question. He caught my hesitation, he was a smart boy, and he sighed. I rose and tousled his hair again, much to his chagrin, pulling him against me for a quick embrace.

“You’ll be extraordinary,” I said. “Whatever you become.”

He hugged me back and for a moment, my ice melted. Then he pulled back, shifting nervously from foot to foot. It saddened me that they weren’t as comfortable around me as they were with Olivia. She was their safe haven, I was the hand of justice.

“Come, let’s get breakfast,” I said, ushering him out into the hall.

“Mom said you were going to a work meeting this morning,” he said, padding barefoot after me. “She said she was going too.”

“It’s an honorary banquet for the secretary of state,” I said. “But yes, we’ll be gone until the afternoon.”

“Will you be home this weekend?”

I nodded. “I’m taking your mother out Friday night, but we’ll be back by lunch on Saturday. We can spend all the rest of the day together, I promise.”

His face brightened as we descended the stairs. “Can we do something fun?”

“What would you like?”

His face screwed up for a moment. “Can we…go hunting?”

“And catch…what?”

We rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. Olivia must have come down earlier because there was a pot of water bubbling on the stove and a carton of eggs on the counter.

“A duck,” Marco said. “I’ll bet I can shoot a duck.”

“I’ll bet you can. How about we look for some pheasant? The groundskeeper said he’s had a problem with too many of them. I don’t think the ducks are outnumbering us just yet.”

“Alright, it’s a deal,” said Marco. “Mom likes pheasant better than duck anyway.”

Olivia came around the corner, her dressing gown cinched around her waist. All it took was a single look at her messy curls piled on her head for all the filthy memories of last night to come flooding back.

“Marco,” I said. “Would you get the twins out of bed? And where’s Hugo?”