The Tyrant (Banker #3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,18
they’ll do anything I ask.”
“Well, it can still wait until morning. Then we’ll set up the crib and add a new coat of paint.”
“I’ll bring someone in to do all of that.”
“Why? We can do it ourselves.”
“Because rich people never do anything themselves.”
She rolled her eyes. “I want to be part of the process every step of the way. I want to put my love into the paint, build that crib with my bare hands. I thought you would feel the same way…”
I hated it when she guilted me. “I have work to do, Siena. You seem to forget that a lot.”
“And you seem to forget that you already have billions. You don’t even need to work anymore.”
“It’s not just about the money.”
“Whatever,” she said. “I’ll do it myself.” She walked into our bedroom and started to undress.
I followed behind her. “Could you at least wait until I get home from work tomorrow? The guys will move the furniture during the day, and then we can take care of this when I get home.”
Since I’d offered a compromise, she seemed more receptive. “Okay, that sounds fair.”
“I got the deal—with no help from you.” Bates sat in the leather armchair and lit a cigar.
“You texted me, and I texted you back.”
“And you think that’s work? Did you have fun picking out diapers and shit?” He tossed a cigar at me.
I caught it and set it on the desk. “I didn’t mind it.” I didn’t care about picking out all the essentials, but knowing everything was for my daughter made it a lot more interesting. I selected a few toys for her, along with one or two outfits. It hit me more with every passing day that I was going to be a father—in a month.
He glanced at my cigar then tossed a lighter at me.
I caught it and put it on the desk next to the cigar.
Bates took in the smoke then blew rings toward the ceiling. “What’s your problem?”
“Just not smoking.”
“Because…?”
I shrugged. “Don’t want to.”
“All we ever do is smoke and drink.”
“Maybe we should branch out more.”
His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Cato? We’ve never had these little conversations without a cigar in our hand. What gives?”
Since I would never smoke again, I might as well tell him the truth. “I quit.”
He laughed like it was absurd. “Quit? You? Why?”
“Smoking kills,” I said simply.
It didn’t take long for my brother to figure out the real reason on his own. “Siena forced you?”
“She didn’t force me. She asked me.”
“My god, you’re pussy-whipped so fucking hard.”
I didn’t deny it because it was true. “She made valid points. And she wasn’t going to let it go unless I caved.”
“What valid points?”
“That I should live as long as possible for Martina’s sake. She’s going to be born into a violent world. I’m the only one who can really protect her. Now that I’m having my kid, my priorities are changing. I wouldn’t have made these sacrifices before, but now that there’s something more important than me, it’s easy to make these changes. Maybe one day you’ll understand.”
“I highly doubt that.” He kept smoking. “I’ve been keeping an eye on Micah and Damien. Still nothing.”
“If nothing has been going on this long, maybe they are shutting down the business.”
“I don’t buy that. They’re doing something, and they don’t want anyone to know about it.”
“Isn’t that true for all criminals?”
“But to completely disappear?” He shook his head. “That’s shady.”
“We’re all shady,” I reminded him.
“I’m not gonna drop this, man. I’m telling you, something is up.”
“Maybe something is up,” I said. “But maybe it has nothing to do with us.”
“Everything has to do with us, Cato. We’re the top of the food chain—and everything beneath us is our business.” His eyes drifted away as he continued to enjoy his cigar. He pulled the smoke into his mouth then let it slowly seep out between his lips. “So, one month to go, huh?”
I nodded. “One month.”
“Are you gonna kill her?”
The question surprised me. “I thought we were past this?”
He shrugged. “She still did terrible things that she wasn’t punished for. Damien and Micah might suspect she means a lot to you, which would make her and your daughter primary targets.”
“So killing her is the solution?” I snapped.
“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe you could just give her a scare. Punish her for everything she did. Prove to your enemies she means nothing to you.”
“So, don’t shoot her?”
“Just go through the motions and make her think it’s happening. That terror