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I grab his shoulders and spin him around. Making sure he looks at me, I say, “No. It’s because Noah is his grandson. No matter how he came to be, he is part of you.” Tears roll down his face and fuck it kills me. He doesn’t look twenty-three right now. He looks like the little boy who lost his mom. My epic failure is never seeing how tormented he is beyond the sarcasm and smile. “Casey can’t take him and hand him off to Dad. Dad can’t just adopt or foster him because one look at his financials, and he’ll be refused. But if you claim paternity, you’ll be leaving your son with his grandfather.”
His shoulders sag, and his head falls onto my shoulder. “It’s not fair.”
“I know, little brother. Fuck, I know, and I hate it.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders and squeeze tight. “I swear, Jagger, I will make her pay. For Casey. For you.”
He shudders hard, then pulls back. His hands scrub roughly over his face as his head falls back. “I’ll think about it.”
It’s the best I can hope for. “Let’s go back inside.”
He shakes his head and waves me off. “You go. I need a minute.”
Hesitant to leave him, but knowing I need to get back inside, I cross the lawn to the main patio.
I step through the doors, pausing for a moment to catch my breath and compose myself from the emotional drain. My fingers dig into the base of my neck as I roll my head, desperate to alleviate the tension.
I step further into the room, my eyes darting from one side to the other as I search for Casey. The need to hold her close is strong, knowing she is the cure to the sense of helplessness weighing on me.
As I search, the heaviness increases when I don’t spot her. My gut swirls with warning. Intuition digs beneath my skin as alarm bells sound in my mind.
The air tastes bitter as I inhale a breath, trying to calm my overreaction to not finding her right away, but the foreboding won’t release its hold.
My steps are tumultuous as I stride through the ballroom to our table where Lily and Ashleigh sit with the other women. They look at me, then around. The confusion alight in their eyes is like a fist squeezing my heart.
“Where’s Casey?” I shove my hands in my pockets and keep my tone light while trying to convince myself I’m overreacting.
“She went to the restroom a while ago,” Lily tells me, but hervoice hitches with concern, doing nothing to alleviate my own. “We assumed you found her when she didn’t come back.”
I drag my hand over my face to hide my clenching jaw. “I’m sure she’s close,” I reassure them.
A hand darts out, gripping mine. I must be doing a shit job of hiding my worry because dark eyes meet mine filled with fear. I pat her hand and smile. “She might be in our room. Or maybe she found Jag.” The lie spills easily, and though I have no reason to believe it’s a lie, I know it is. “Everything is fine.”
I’m unsure whether or not she’s convinced, but I don’t linger.
My long strides are filled with purpose and determination as I head toward the exit, not caring how many I rudely ignore or bump in to. When I reach the foyer, I find Henry huddled with Will and two others. His eyes meet mine for a brief moment, then dart behind me. I know at that moment he’s looking for Casey, but he solidifies my knowledge when he asks me. The urgency in his voice makes the hair on my neck stand on end. “I was hoping you knew,” I tell him, unable to disguise my worry—and growing anger—any longer.
A panic-stricken look crosses his face. “She went looking for you.” My stomach roils so violently, I nearly double over. “Krista is—was here.”
A wave of fury so powerful rips through me that I don’t even realize I gave my body permission to move until I’m pulled away from Henry, my arms locked behind me. I struggle against the vice holding me in place. My throat burns as I yell without a clue what I am saying. Murderous rage tears through me like a hurricane, destroying all rational thought as the need to destroy consumes me.
The feeling of something wrapping around my neck, constricting my airways, and darkening my vision forces me to focus onbreathing instead of my wrath. Blood roars in my ears making the whispered Italian almost indecipherable.
“Non puoi avitarla se non riesci a pensare. Respira, amico, respire.”
My vision grows hazy, but the red tinge recedes.
He’s right. I can’t do anything if I can’t see past my anger.
Sensing I’m under control, the hold around me loosens. A deep breath fills my chest, cleansing away the remnants of the fog clouding my vision. I glance over my shoulder, finding the two-toned eyes I haven’t formally met.
“Graham Davis,” Henry waves at me, “Sebastian Delrie.”
“You bought my company,” I say as I extend my hand. Will clears his throat, warning me to keep quiet because now is not the time or place. And he’s right, but I’ve already said it.
Sebastian takes my hand, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I did. I made your daddy my bitch, and all I did was make an offer.” He rakes his eyes over me and tilts his head. “Like father, like son?”
“Not even close.” I look at Will and Herny. “I need Casey found. Now.”
“What do you mean found?” Liam appears next to us ready to unleash hell. It’s an interesting look on him.
