Page 41 of Violent Little Thing

Means to an End

ADONIS

“ N ice to know you’re alive, Donny. I’ve been calling you for two weeks.” My dad is dressed in casual clothes for once and it makes my steps stutter as I approach him in my otherwise empty lobby.

“Been busy, sorry.” I look him up and down. “You in a crisis or something? You and mom going through it?”

Humor is missing from his laugh as he inclines his head to study me. “Glad to see you in good spirits after causing chaos at yet another Society event.”

“That’s what you came to say?”

He widens his stance and crosses his arms over his chest. “No, I came to apologize.”

“For what?”

“What Marcellus and his son did to that girl was sick. I didn’t know that when you took her.

But you giving me the silent treatment didn’t make it better.

” He turns to look out of the lobby window, shaking his head.

“I get that you wanna be her hero, but being trigger happy at Society events ain’t helping, son. You giving me more messes to clean up.”

“I’ll cover it. How much is it?”

He snickers. “Not everything is about money, Adonis. This is about appearances and the way you acting got people second-guessing if your temper is going to fuck up deals we already have on the table.”

My business is separate from my father’s. Always has been. I remind him of that, and he shakes his head.

“You know this shit is all connected. How many people have I sent from the club straight to your client list?”

Officially, Antoine Samson owns most of the nightlife in Wildwood. Four clubs, three lounges and a cigar bar in the Highlands. Unofficially, he cleans money for The Society and has for as long as I can remember.

It goes without saying that his clientele on both ends is perfect for the business I run.

He runs a hand over his mustache. “When people stop taking me serious, that’s when we have problems, son.”

“This don’t sound like an apology, Pops.”

“Take it for what it is.” He looks serious. “I am sorry for what I said about that woman?—”

“That woman has a name.”

Eyes that remind me of mine cut in my direction. “You’re still supposed to get married in a year. Nothing has changed.”

“And if I want it to?”

Surprise isn’t one of the emotions darkening his features when he regards me. “ Stop wanting it.”

Silence swells between us until I nod, backing away to return to my office.

“Where are you going, Adonis? This conversation isn’t over.”

Pausing my retreat, I bite the inside of my cheek. “What you want me to say?”

“That you’re done with this unpredictable shit and you got your priorities straight.”

“She is my priority.”

“And you’re still going to marry Chiara Dupree this time next year.” He shrugs. “Get the other one set up in a nice apartment, give her a credit card and tell her to be quiet if she’s that important to you.”

The thought of Delilah being anybody’s side chick shifts something in my brain because it doesn’t even sound right.

“Is that what you did when you married mom? You kept the woman you loved ducked off in the shadows and walked down the aisle with someone else?”

Irritation and resentment rearrange his expression. It’s fucked up but that’s all the answer I need.

“How’d that work out for you?”

“I respect your mother.” He closes half the space between us. “Love is overrated. It’s messy and irrational and wears off.”

I can’t help but shake my head.

“And you cool with me ending up like you?”

“What’s wrong with ending up like me?”

“I don’t know, dad. Appearances are all you care about. You’re not at the top of my list for people I’m taking advice from when it comes to how I want to live my life.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way I live my life.”

“Maybe not.” I raise my shoulders. “But so far, your legacy is a son you sent away to be raised by people you paid. A son whose birthday you can’t remember and whose happiness you don’t care about. As long as we look good, you call it success.”

He shakes his head again as his smile turns mocking. “Is that what this is about? You showing out because I forgot to tell you happy birthday?”

“Nah, but it doesn’t help either.”

“Does it help that you never have to work another day in your life if you don’t want to?” He inches closer. “Does it help that you’re not in somebody’s jail right now after killing two people in the last month?”

He’s close enough now to anchor his hand at my shoulder and speak directly in my ear.

“You wanna see me as this monster? So be it. But if I was as bad as you thought that girl and her brother would’ve been dead weeks ago.”

My gun is at his temple before he can finish. “I don’t care what you do to Weston, but don’t you ever fucking joke about killing Delilah again.”

Antoine Samson doesn’t flinch, but his eyes shine with amusement.

“See what I mean?” He snickers. “ Irrational . This has never been you, Adonis. You don’t get emotional over anything, let alone women. That woman is your weakness and anybody in a fifty-mile radius can tell. Don’t think they won’t use it to their advantage, either.”

I steel my jaw and void my expression, holstering the nine at my torso.

“Aight, you made your point. I’m going back to work.”

A deep, authoritative voice calls after me. “Make some time to call that future wife of yours and make this right. We don’t need bad blood leading up to the wedding. Fix this, Donny. ”

I don’t know if he’s still in the lobby when I make it to my office and I don’t care.

What he doesn’t know is that I’ve been trying to reach Chiara every day for the past week but she’s not taking the bait.

And it’ll stay like that as long as it needs to because I’m not chasing that woman around the globe when I know she’s happy with someone else.

I don’t care how it looks to anybody not in my shoes right now.

The only thing I care about is finding a way around our agreement.

There has to be something she wants that I can offer in exchange for not marrying her.

Settling my thumb over the sensor to wake up my computer, I run through my impromptu conversation with my dad.

At the end of the day, I know his need for me to fix our riff stems from the Duprees being his largest whiskey vendor at his cigar bar. But the Duprees won’t fuck up their biggest account to prove a point. They can’t afford it.

And I can’t afford to lose Delilah.