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I’m also really fucking furious. No one touches Carter.
My stepson. One of my lovers.
“Elora.” I cock my gun, the sound loud in the penthouse. “One wrong move and your brain will be splattered all over your Monet.”
“Do try and tackle me,” Carter addresses her while his eyes are still fixed on Case. “I’d love hanging that one up at home. I’d call it, The Bloody Lilies. A wonderful memory of a wonderful day.”
Elora backs off, turning on the waterworks.
I don’t care. I’ve done way worse to both women and men alike. Would’ve done worse to her had she not been Amara’s mom. There’s no telling how Amara will react to us killing her parents. Or to us killing, period.
I know I told Carter to fess up to her, but I definitely lose sleep over this.
Later.
Case stops crying, lifting chin and cringes when Carter’s knife runs along the broken skin. “You’re not getting it for free. We already have a—”
“Free. F-R-E-E. Now, let me tell you why.” Defending Amara’s honor has me talking more than I should. I keep going anyway. “For four years, you’ve taken rent from your daughter and have threatened her at every turn. Treating her as if she were another lowlife inhibiting this city. As if that isn’t enough, you’ve demeaned her for doing what she loves. For being the person she is. Giving her the building in its entirety is the least you can do to make it up to her. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”
“We already have a b-b-buyer.” Her dad pinches his lips. Carter cuts him deeper.
“Goddammit.” Losing to us annoys Case. Much more than the new blood trickling from his neck.
Tough luck, both Carter and I hate losing more.
Carter moves the tip of the blade to Case’s chin. A cut he wouldn’t be able to hide around his stuck-up friends.
That’s what gets to him. “Fine, fine. I’ll hand it over.”
“Good dog.” Carter pats his head. “I’ll ask again. Where do we sign?”
“I’ll call my lawyer.” Case seethes. “Why do you care, anyway? What’s your relationship with Amara?”
We don’t owe them explanations. We don’t owe them shit. But staying silent will raise red flags. It’ll have them digging.
“She’s one of our suppliers. We really love her flowers.” I jerk my head to the elevator doors, signaling to Carter that playtime is over. “Our lawyers will call yours.”
Carter wipes his fingertip along the blood trail on Case’s throat.
“We’ll find their number. We have our resources. And in case you fail to take their calls…” He smears crimson stipes on Case’s nose, chin. Beneath his eyes. “We’ll be back here. You’ll be wise to avoid that, Casey boy. Real motherfucking smart.”
“We were never here,” I add, glaring at her parents. “You mention it to her or anyone else, both you and your beloved Melina are fish food.”
“Bloop,” Carter says, pushing Case to the floor.
And that’s how we met our in-laws.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Amara
“Pretty, pretty ladies,” I greet the black dahlias in my shop, removing a shriveled petal carefully.
I’m happy. Excited as I’m helping Opal rearrange Luna’s bouquet for tomorrow’s wedding.
Her denim overalls and a striped, black and white T-shirt were far less rumpled a few hours ago, as in this morning. Before she decided she had to trim and fix Luna’s flower arrangements one last time.
I don’t know what possessed her to leave me in charge of the bouquet, but she did.
