it’s an issue now. More likely, the rat at the restaurant was a new hire at the valet stand, not properly trained yet. Those are independent companies who hire a lot of college kids.”
“So you’re saying my privacy was sold for someone’s weed money?”
“No. I’m saying somebody wasn’t given proper training, and—”
“And I don’t give a shit.” My roar makes everyone step back but him. Yeah, even Ella—which fires up my self-hatred all over again. Fucking. Great. It’s not even noon, and so far today I’ve not-so-subtly insulted a few medical professionals, called my dead brother a selfish asshole, and watched the woman I love be turned into a trending hashtag under #billionaire bang toys.
And now get to watch that woman look at me like the proverbial second head has sprouted from my neck. And maybe it has. Since I unlocked the door to that damn turret and climbed into that room again, it feels like another person has clamored to burst free from me—a goddamn beast, prowling that cage along with Lily’s restless ghost, only one message imprinted on its mind.
You didn’t do enough.
You didn’t protect her.
You didn’t make the hard choices that would’ve saved her.
I breathe hard, listening to every heaving breath and snarling word from the monster now. If that means he’s had to manifest into another head off my neck, then so be it. My regular one will be happy to channel the message too, just so everyone hears it—especially me.
“I want heads on platters, Doyle. Is that fucking clear? I’ll have a stack of pink slips on my desk by next Monday—and right next to them, apology letters addressed personally to Mishella.”
Doyle stiffens. Draws back a harsh breath, teeth locked—but in the moment I’m sure he’ll haul a crossbow out of his jeans, I am cut down by harsher opposition.
The breathtaking blonde at my side.
“By all the bloody powers in heaven.” Mishella reclaims the step I blew her back by, delivering a new slap to the center of my chest—only this time, she’s not I’m-grateful-you’re-alive pissed. This is I-may-just-kill-you-myself pissed. “You are joking…yes?”
I slash a glare down. Jolt one brow up. “I’ve never been more serious in my fucking life.”
Her nose scrunches. Her lips part, unveiling the tight lock of her teeth. “No,” she seethes. “You are not.”
Rough inhalation. A forest fire raging in my bloodstream. “Mishella. For Christ’s sake—”
“No.” She whomps my chest again. “No, Cassian—for my sake—you need to take a giant chilled pickle and—”
“Chill pill?” Kate supplies the guess.
“That too,” Ella snaps. “I really do not care how it happens—but you make it fucking so, Mr. Court.” She halts, letting the stunning impact of the dictate in. And this time, it is stunning. I’m close to certain nobody in this room has heard that special English word from her before, except me—and I can count the occasions I have on one hand, since I remember them clearly. The f word is a delicious damn thing when the woman’s begging me to actually do it to her…
Memories that turn it into fifteen kinds of hot temptation now.
Yeah. It’s official. I’m whipped for this woman.
No damn use fighting it.
Instead, I suck back more air. Hold up both hands—in grudging surrender.
“All right. Fine. I’m listening, armeau.”
Rough air puffs Doyle’s lips. “Annnd hell really has frozen over.”
“Shut up,” I snarl.
Ella steps between my arms. Slides her hands up to my sternum, my shoulders, the sides of my face. Though I swallow hard, half the stress drains from my body. I’m not sure that it hasn’t gone away…simply that now, it’s understood. In her sorceress eyes and magical touch, I feel that. I know it.
“I have…an interesting idea,” she finally murmurs.
One side of my mouth quirks—as one half of my soul willingly dances its way over to her. “Heads on pikes instead of pink slips on my desk? Ow.” At least her dual tweaks on my ears distract from the hot needles in my hand. Even if they didn’t, the cyan glow of her eyes would be worth it.
“Instead of retaliation…why should we not try recompensation?”
“Huh?” Doyle mutters.
“Recompen—what?” Kate is louder about her confusion.
Ella circles both hands to my nape. Sets her chin so our gazes fully meet. “Why do we not give them what they want, Cassian? Work with them, not against them. Together.”
I dig the fingers of my good hand into the top of her arm. “You’re serious.”
She presses closer. With her head rocked back, still meeting every burning scrutiny of my gaze with gorgeous