Page 19 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)

Something about his tone grates on my nerves, and I have to take a second to remind myself he isn’t saying anything I disagree with. Still, his irritation when referring to Kasey bothers me a hell of a lot more than it should.

I sit behind my desk, reading Damon’s message as it comes through.

Damon: Just landed. We’ll be back at the manor in an hour.

Every deviant thing I’ve imagined doing to Kasey over the last forty-eight hours flashes through my mind, and all I want is to get back to the manor.

But I can’t.

Not until we handle this.

“We need to be ready for another one,” Matteo says, rubbing a hand over his beard.

I shake my head. “There is no way of knowing where to put our assets to reduce the likelihood of another attack.”

“So, we’re going to sit on our hands and do nothing?”

“What do you suggest?” James asks.

“More security on every run, pickup, drop-off, and meeting until these bastards are found.”

“And where exactly is this extra manpower coming from?” I ask. “We can’t pull everyone from their stations on the off-chance that more security would make a difference. And suddenly increasing security would just spook these guys more.”

“We tell them it’s a temporary arrangement until Kasey is finished upgrading security,” Matteo suggests.

“Which draws more attention to her and why she’s here in the first place,” I say in a low tone that acts as a warning.

James pulls in a long breath, and I recognize the look he gives me as a sign that I won’t like what he’s about to say. “There is one way we could increase security without raising suspicion.”

“How?” Matteo asks.

James stands, walks to the map, and runs his finger over a section of our territory in the heart of the city. “Romano has an army to lend if certain conditions are met.”

“And by certain conditions , you mean I marry his daughter,” I deadpan.

“If we move forward with a proposal, it would allow us to utilize their men to reinforce security measures without stretching our soldiers thin. It also gives us the excuse of ‘ joining our families,’ which would mitigate any suspicion for increased security.”

Matteo nods, approval replacing his irritation. “It would be a huge boost to morale for our boss to settle down and have heirs.”

I curse under my breath.

I hate that they’re using a family crisis to push the Romano girl on me.

I hate even more that they have a point.

Marrying Isabella gives us the Romano resources and a plausible excuse for using them. Combined with the need for heirs, my reasons for not wanting to marry Isabella seem selfish.

I’m not sure I have a choice anymore.

A lump the size of a baseball lodges in my throat, and I stare down at my phone, like something there will give me a reason to push this off.

But the phone doesn’t light up, and I don’t have a reason to say no.

“Set up a meeting with Mr. Romano for Tuesday afternoon.”

James watches me with the same contemplative look from earlier, like he’s waiting for me to take it back—like he was banking on it.

When I don’t, he asks, “Are you sure?”

Not at all.

“Set it up,” I say instead.

With one last glance at my phone, I sigh and shove it back into my pocket.

It’s almost midnight when I pull up to the manor.

It took James, Matteo, and me hours to do damage control.

We had to rearrange soldier assignments—to cover us until my meeting with Romano—communicate those changes to our men, and fully compensate the families of the three men who lost their lives.

I’m exhausted, and I’m pissed off.

Every time we’re sabotaged, I’m vividly reminded of the greatest failure of my life.

Mason.

I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve stopped him long before he could cause the catastrophic damage that he did. I should’ve protected our family.

Mason’s ambition was constantly a source of argument, but I never imagined he’d take things so far.

And I should have.

I don’t bother parking the Aston Martin in the garage with my other cars and instead leave it parked outside the manor. Usually, I’d never leave my car vulnerable to the elements, but tonight, I don’t care.

There’s only one thing on my mind when I put the car in park, and she better be waiting for me.

I’m through the door and up the stairs in record time.

With every step, the heat radiating from my chest eases, and my breathing steadies. The anticipation brings a smile to my face when I finally get to her door.

I reach for the handle but freeze just before touching it. My eyes drop to the crack at the bottom of the door.

The lights are off.

Of course the lights are off.

I retract my hand as it balls into a tight fist.

Why had I thought she’d wait for me? What about Kasey’s cavalier attitude has ever indicated that she’d stay up for me to get home?

I realize—with bile crawling up my throat—that Kasey didn’t struggle with the distance the same way I did.

She didn’t snap at everyone she talked to. She didn’t lie awake at night with unsatisfied fantasies running rampant through her head. She didn’t have to fight off the temptation of saying screw it to all the work she had so that she could get home to me sooner.

The realization stings like acid seeping into my skin, and I prefer it to the weight of this embarrassment.

I am the boss of the Consoli family, and I do not wait around for the attention of anyone—let alone some self-serving, abrasive menace.

As I turn on my heels and walk to my room, I look forward to my meeting with Mr. Romano for the first time.