game.
“Do you believe the Cartel exists?”
“Yes.”
“The Mob?”
“Of course.”
“Why, because you saw GoodFellas?” He shakes his head, a faint smile on his lips. “So why is it so hard for you to believe a group of people banded together for a reason they felt was justifiable enough to warrant extremes to try and evoke change?”
“It’s just so…”
“When you were coerced in, you were just as ignorant until you saw for yourself.”
“Yes.”
“And you just admitted it’s still unbelievable after the fact. So, would it be safe to agree your ignorance is shared with a large majority?”
I nod, mulling over what he’s saying. “I believe so, yes.”
“Seeing is believing for so many that it’s fucking pathetic.”
“So I’ve been told a hundred times.”
He smiles but it’s pride I see shining in his eyes. The pride of a teacher. “Sean.”
You.
“Cartels are corrupt,” I say, making my move, “and so is the Mob.”
I lift my eyes to his. “And so…” are you. And they do it all—everything from blackmail and extortion, down to petty theft. The Ravenhood is just as corrupt, as lawless as any other extreme organization. “So, this is evil versus a lesser evil?”
He nods toward me to make my move. As soon as I do, his countermove earns him a greater advantage on the board. “How do you justify it? What sets you apart? The fact that you don’t hurt innocent people?”
“If you don’t think you’re in danger, you’re a lot less intelligent than I gave you credit for. The second we focus on taking someone down, we, in turn, gain bullseyes on our backs—all of our backs, no exclusions. There are no rules for innocents in wars like these. The casualties due to our declared wars all boil down to human decency. Whether or not our opponent has humanity enough to leave the innocents out of it.”
He drives the point home by knocking my pawn off the board.
“Can we be done with this game?”
“No,” he answers quickly, “I’m three moves away from winning.”
I make my move, and he’s already lifted his knight.
“The tattoos are pretty stupid, don’t you think? Incriminating. How do you expect to keep this contained?”
“There will always be the burden of evidence for anyone to incriminate.”
“Isn’t that a bit arrogant?”
“No, it’s not arrogant. There will always be the burden of evidence, just like there will always be an exception to every rule. I’m expecting it. I expect opposition. I expect retaliation. I expect to be surprised because of human nature—case in point, the interruption that is you. But make no mistake, America is a corporation, a business, Cecelia. Your father knows that, everyone in a position of power fighting behind the flag knows that. Roman isn’t stupid. He’s well-aware he has enemies, whether he can identify them or not. He’s also aware that one wrong move could cost him everything, as all players are. And for every man positioned in a place of power or importance, there will always be someone waiting in the wings to seek weakness out, anticipate your next move, and attempt to take what doesn’t belong to them.”
He moves his knight forward. Checkmate.
“That was only two moves,” I point out.
I don’t miss the subtle but familiar smile that upturns his lips. When his gaze lifts to mine, and he sees my response to it, he draws his brows.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You saw my brother when you looked at me just then.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s the first time you haven’t looked at me like you wanted to fuck me or kill me today.”
“I don’t want to fuck you. But killing you sounds delightful.”
“Maybe you’ll get your chance one day.” He flashes a different grin, one that’s distinctly his, and I try not to swoon at the sight of it. Why does he have to be so fucking beautiful? Why couldn’t he be a second-hand Dom? That I could deal with a lot easier. And the thought that I’ve been eye-fucking him and he’s noticed is nauseating.
But I’m starting to understand the root of some of my attraction. When I look at him, I do see Dominic and Sean. When he speaks, I hear bits and pieces of them both. I must still be looking at him in that way because he lifts his chin, prompting me. “What?”
“You’re the original quack.”
He draws his brows. “Explain.”
“Nope.” He sits back against the fireplace draining the gin he helped himself to from my father’s richly stocked bar.
“So, if you know it’s just a matter of time before you meet a worthy opponent…”