Page 195 of Midnight Curfew

“Well, I owe Miss Hernandez, then,” he says.

His thugs move in front of the door, blocking my way, and I understand now. He has something he wants to say.

“Come here,” Callum says behind me.

I wait a moment, trying to convince myself I can take these guys, but I can’t. I’m in shape, but I’m not a fucking weight lifter.

Turning my head over my shoulder, I see him head behind the stairs to the hallway.

I follow him, slipping through a door on the left.

Once inside, I look around at the office. Dark blue walls, gray curtains, wood desk. His father’s.

He moves behind the desk, opens a drawer, and starts counting out some cash. He stops and then continues, adding a few extra bills. “A little extra tip.” He holds it out to me. “She’ll need money now.”

I don’t want to give him the pleasure of watching me take it, but I know I can’t leave until I do.

Snatching it from his hand, I spin around and start to walk out.

“Dallas.”

I stop and turn to meet his eyes.

He takes something from his pocket, flinging it to me. An old object flies through the air, and I catch it, recognizing the face of the Spanish coin immediately.

It’s ours. One of the many coins—among other things—he stole from the tomb.

“Each one of those,” he says, “can go for as much as nineteen thousand dollars. Did you know that?”

I arch a brow, wondering if he’s counted how many thousands of these were in the crates. He must’ve had a crew of twenty sweep in to clear that tomb so quickly.

He grins. “Of course you knew.”

Macon should’ve used that money to secure the land once and for all. He thought it was too risky for anyone to know what we had, though. So we used it sparingly. Building houses, a school, agriculture, businesses, jobs…

“The residents of the Bay don’t all know about this, do they?” Callum muses, moving around the desk and leaning on the front. “I mean, I get it. I’d do the same thing. If they knew, it would be impossible to control. Macon knows that.”

I grind my teeth together. Where the fuck is he going with this?

“People would be demanding their cut,” he goes on, “colluding to steal it, spending it on outrageous purchases, partying, drugs…” He sighs with fake sympathy. “Money often does more harm than good.”

Yes, it does. Making everyone in the Bay instantly rich wouldn’t bode well. Maybe it wasn’t our decision to make for them, but it could also be a painful lesson to learn. It’s what was best for the largest number of people in the Bay.

“But still, knowing that, they’d want it anyway,” he tells me, taking the coin from my hand again. “What do you think Damaris Hernandez would do for just one of these?”

I lift my chin, my blood rushing hot. He better not be implying what I think he is.

The corner of his mouth tilts up in a smile, and he lowers his voice. “What do you think I could get Olivia to do for the whole fucking lot?”

Motherfucker!

Reaching out, I grab his neck, just as the door behind us flies open.

Goddamn him. Isn’t he happy? He has everything! He has to drag my family through the mud to feel good? Fuck!

But Callum holds out his hand, stopping his security.

Looking at me, he still hasn’t wiped the grin off his fucking face, and with one movement, I can snap his neck.