Page 8 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)

CHAPTER SIX

Kasey

I regret my decision to move into the manor the moment the chauffeur turns down the long driveway.

Acres of meticulously cared-for grass stretch the length of the drive, and it’s more than enough space for Kane to enjoy.

The house is three stories high and looks like it was built in the early twentieth century—or at least designed to look that way—with its dark gray stone exterior, large rectangular windows, and cobblestone accents along the pillars and walkways.

The manor looks better suited for the English countryside than the outskirts of Chicago.

My stomach is in knots.

I don’t like people. My entire adult life has been spent in self-imposed isolation, and that’s exactly the way I like it.

So, moving into a house full of people isn’t something I’m looking forward to.

Then there are the people I’m moving in with .

I’ll admit I had fun messing with Logan—screwing with his base, and watching him threaten to murder an innocent man at McDonald’s—but his stunt with my drink was one hell of a wake-up call.

He might not have actually drugged me, but one thing I know with certainty: he could’ve.

Logan Consoli isn’t above murder, and if he thought for one second that I was more trouble than I was worth, he’d drug me for real and leave me for dead.

It’s not that I thought I was invincible or forgot I was working with dangerous people, but I’ve always believed my skill bought me some amount of immunity. And while that may be the case now, I won’t be making the mistake of getting comfortable again.

The first thing I did when I got home from our meeting was take out enough money in cash to live comfortably for at least a year, then pack a bag of essentials just in case I need to make a quick escape.

I may be an asset to the Consolis now, but if that changes, I won’t be around to face whatever wrath Logan reserves for his enemies.

I picture the Consoli boss now, but it isn’t with the reverent fear I’m sure he expects from everyone.

It’s… fascination?

Logan is quick to anger yet slow to retaliate. He’ll flash a casual smile one second and drop the hammer the next. Getting under his skin is easy, but guessing what he’ll do next isn’t.

I had his entire base at my mercy from hundreds of miles away, then watched in amusement as he made a fool of himself in a fast-food restaurant, and somehow, I was the one cowering by the time we walked away from the meeting.

It’s a war of wills, and if he thinks it’s over, he’s dead wrong.

I open the door as soon as the driver puts the vehicle in park, and Kane darts out of the back seat. I climb out after him just as James opens the grand double doors of the manor to greet me. He watches the dog sprint through the yard as he approaches the car.

“Is he always this energetic?” James asks.

“He hates the car, so he’s just happy to be out,” I tell him, just as Kane sprints up to us and puts himself between me and the Consoli underboss.

James takes a small step back, his face unreadable.

“Afraid of dogs?”

“Afraid? No. Just not a fan.”

“Bad experience?”

“No experience,” he says with a shrug. “Never had time for pets.”

I pat Kane’s head to assure him I’m not in danger. “Well, you’ll need to get used to having one around.”

James nods, never taking his eyes off Kane as he holds out one hand and steps forward.

I open my mouth to warn him that Kane’s been known to give minimal warning before snapping at someone, but my dog only leans forward to sniff the hand before he nudges it in request to be petted.

My eyebrows fly to my hairline. That’s new.

“Welcome to the manor.” Logan strolls down the steps toward us with a perfectly neutral expression.

Two men I don’t recognize follow Logan and begin unloading my things from the car.

“Anything in a black tote goes to the base,” I tell them, and they nod their understanding.

“How was the drive?” Logan asks.

He wears a pristine suit, looking like a character straight out of a James Bond movie. His shoulders are rolled back, and with both hands in his pockets, he’s the picture of ease.

It’s the eyes that give him away.

Those striking green eyes watch me like I’m an animal he expects to go rabid at any second. It’s a reminder that while we may have a deal, Logan does not trust me.

I suspect having me here is more about keeping me under close watch than being a generous host.

I lift an eyebrow. “Are we doing small talk?”

“You prefer I ignore you?”

“Very much.”

“Then, yes, we do small talk.”

I look at James, who is still petting a content Kane. “Show me to my room?”

“Come on,” Logan says, nodding to the house. “I’ll give you a tour.”

He doesn’t wait for me to respond, and I have half a mind to ignore him, but there’s no point when I’m sure he won’t give me a fun reaction anyway.

If I thought the outside of the house was beautiful, the inside is breathtaking.

The décor is minimal and sleek, with a natural color scheme that fits the house’s architecture while giving it a modern edge.

Everything matches. Everything belongs. The coordination is so precise it’s almost eerie, like this place is meant to impersonate a home, not be one.

We walk through the grand entryway, which has a winding staircase to the second floor that we walk right past to go under an archway.

We enter the kitchen, which has dark wood cabinets that perfectly complement the granite countertops and white appliances that look brand-new.

The living room is to the left, with huge couches that actually look comfortable—unlike the rest of the house, which lacks any semblance of coziness.

A projector hangs on the ceiling, pointing at a white screen in place of a TV.

Bookcases decorate the walls of the spacious room, and natural light pours in from the windows overlooking the backyard, filling the house with pleasant warmth.

We walk past the grand dining room and reach a hallway with four closed doors.

“This is the only part of the house that’s off-limits,” he explains, looking like he’s waiting for me to fight him on it.

“What is it?”

“Offices for my brothers and me,” he explains. “And if I find out you’ve been snooping around where you shouldn’t, our deal is off.”

I lift my hands in surrender as confirmation.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. There’s a gym in the basement, along with a rec room that looks like it’s never been used, and the third floor is all spare rooms and storage. We stop on the second floor, and I follow Logan into the first room—my bedroom for the duration of my stay.

It’s as beautiful as the rest of the house.

The king-sized bed is between two glass tables, each adorned with a white lamp and a stack of long-ignored books. A vanity in the corner beneath a wall of windows overlooks the acres of land spanning the backyard. It’s a gorgeous view, made even more so by the shining sun and lack of clouds.

It’s a view I could get used to.

There’s a walk-in closet that could hold four times as many clothes as I own and a bathroom complete with a rain shower, bathtub, and—according to the dial on the wall—heated floors.

My five suitcases and two duffle bags are already sitting beside the bed.

Logan leaves after telling me his room is the first door to the left of the staircase, James’s is the one next to it, and Damon’s is the last room down the hall.

I shut the door behind him to finally enjoy a moment of privacy and spend the next twenty minutes lying beside Kane on the oversized—yet extremely comfortable—bed. I should unpack, but I’m too exhausted from the drive.

It’s a project for tomorrow.

The knock on my door reminds me that for the next three months, home won’t be a place of solitude. The fact that I can be interrupted at any time makes me reevaluate my choice to be here in the first place.

Though five million dollars might just be worth it.

“You ready to go?” James asks.

I open the door. “Go where?”

“Logan didn’t tell you?”

A shrug is my answer.

“We have a meeting at the base with the highest-ranking members of our family and the Morenos to get everyone on the same page about the plan moving forward.”

No, Logan did not tell me that, and while I knew I didn’t have all day to lounge around, I thought I’d have more than twenty minutes to settle in.

This is going to be an exhausting few months.

“Uh, yeah,” I say. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

His eyes trail down my body. “Is that what you’re planning to wear?” James asks, and while he does so without malice, my defenses lock into place.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Is there a problem with that?”

He gives my less-than-professional blue athletic wear set a once-over, then briefly looks down at his suit, and I watch his mental deliberation as he decides whether to pick the fight.

“Not at all,” he says with a shake of his head.

When I walk downstairs a few minutes later, James is gone, having taken the totes of my equipment to unload at the base before the meeting.

That leaves me to drive with Logan, who—unlike his brother—chose to pick a fight with me over my outfit.

“I’m comfortable,” I state, moving toward the door.

Logan steps in my way, forcing me to bend my neck to look at him. “I don’t care about your comfort. You’re going to a capo meeting, not a dance studio. Go change.”

“I never agreed to a dress code.”

“You agreed to work for me, and I’m holding you to the same standard I hold all my soldiers to.”

“I’m not one of your soldiers,” I remind him, then throw up placating hands when his nostrils flare.

“But whatever. I’ll go change.” I check the time on my phone.

“Might take a while since everything is still in suitcases. But that’s okay, right?

I mean, you’re the boss, so everyone can just wait for us. ”

Logan curses under his breath, reluctantly stepping out of my way.

“Going to be the death of me,” he mutters as I pass.

“ This is your car?” I ask, stopping as soon as I see that flashy vehicle.