eyebrows kiss in the middle, her head moving backward, chin touching her neck unattractively.
I shrug. “Only way I can be sure you won’t gorge yourself on shitty food when you leave here.”
“You are cruel.”
“Never argued that point, baby.”
Chapter Thirteen
Rocco
One of Dominic’s cronies glares at me as I stalk past, his eyes like daggers, watching my every move. Can’t blame him, I’m a ring-in. One he’s likely had to keep eyes on a time or two. He’s right not to trust me, doesn’t mean his cocked up stare doesn’t piss me off. He’s a wannabe. A tough guy. I’d kill to go a round or two in the ring with him, teach him to respect those who could hold his life in their palm and play God.
“Rocco,” Dominic greets as I saunter into his office without knocking.
“Rein,” I respond. “Don’t appreciate being summoned.”
He laughs, hands pausing on the papers he’s shuffling around his desk. “How should I request your company in the future?” he tests. “A hand-written invitation?”
I sit without being asked.
“My understanding was that you agreed to begin working with me. Am I mistaken?”
I don’t answer, only meeting his hostile glare with one of my own.
“Because if so, please feel free to leave. However, if I was correct, show me some fucking respect when you walk into my home. I may see you as an equal,” he threatens, “but you are beneath me in this world, Shay, know that.”
I raise an eyebrow, shocked into silence. “Testier than usual. What’s going on?”
“Why is my daughter visiting your loft?”
I school the smirk wanting to creep onto my face.
Daddy thinks I’m fucking his daughter.
Disengage the shotgun, soldier, her virtue ain’t at risk. I mean, given the opportunity, I likely wouldn’t resist. But I’m smart enough to know she’d likely be doing it to get close enough to slit my throat.
“She’s engaged to my brother.” I shrug, enjoying playing with his temper far too much. “They come and go as they please.”
His eyes light like fire, nostrils flaring in fury.
“Chill, old man. I’m teaching Camryn how to fight. Your minions tell you she arrives and leaves with boxing gloves in hand?”
“York!” he bellows.
My hater walks into the room without a second’s delay, hands behind his back, the picture of submission.
Little bitch.
“When you’ve seen Camryn arrive at Mr. Shay’s loft, has she had anything with her?”
The twinkle of hope in his eyes dies, replaced by panic. “Ah.” He pretends to think. “Now that you mention it, possibly boxing gloves, sir.”
Dominic breathes through his nose, exhaling heavily. “Likely a potent piece of information, wouldn’t you surmise?”
York swallows uncomfortably. “Umm… yes, sir.”
I rub at my jaw, enjoying the fear in this guy’s eyes a little too much. I’m certain he’s shit his cheap polyester pants.
With a flick of his wrist, Dominic dismisses him.
“Does Camryn know you’re having her followed?”
Hands running through his hair, the tired man in front of me sighs. “She’s not silly. Of course. She graciously flips them off each morning in greeting. Sometimes she brings them coffee and accidentally drops it into their laps. Other times, she calls the cops on them. It’s a lot of paperwork for me when she does that.”
I don’t hide my smile. “Some people are happily lost. Ever considered your daughter ain’t interested in being found.”
The pain in his eyes is obvious. Face dropping into his palms, he rubs at his forehead on a groan. “Some people are afraid to be found.” He lifts his head. “They’re in so much pain, they’re certain that’s all that the world has to offer them. They want to stay lost to hide away from further hurt.”
“You want to show her that the world has more to offer?”
His shoulders lift weakly. “Is that so bad? For a father to want that for his daughter?”
I shake my head. “No. But how can you be certain further harm won’t find her? Maybe she’s happy.”
“Do you think she’s happy?” he asks.
I blink, dropping my gaze to my lap. “No.” I take a breath before answering. “No, I don’t.”
This conversation took a heavier turn than I expected it to. Fuck, this is what happens when people push themselves into your life. You get caught up in their feelings, in their perceived failings. You’re pushed to want to help.
I shouldn’t give two shits that Dominic Rein is struggling with a hopeless need to fix his eldest daughter.
“I ain’t fuckin’ your daughter, Rein,” I admit. “You’ll be happy to know she still firmly despises my existence. She blackmailed me