Until Her - Ami Van Page 0,71

their siblings. In honesty, he’s thankful because he isn’t quite prepared for the blowout it’s going to cause yet.

Ariana’s sobriety is on the line just as much as Derrick’s marriage right now. And the bomb to set off that blowout has just seated herself right on their office couch. Her dark red pantsuit is a stark contrast to the creamed colored upholstery.

Cristian also makes himself right at home, immediately rounding the bar and examining the bottles available.

“What do you want?” Derrick rumbles at Isabella.

Cristian doesn’t even flinch but then again, the bastard didn’t seem like he was interested in what this conversation is going to be about.

“Oh, love,” Isabella says with her pretentious tone. “Is that the proper way to greet good friends?”

That sure as hell didn’t get past Rory. He sees his brother’s facial expression.

“Well, then. Right to business,” Isabella says with her air of disgusting arrogance. “We need passage for a shipment arriving in two weeks. It’s for the official grand opening of Olympus. I know that you can make that passage with the snap of a finger. You’re close associates with your friend to the west.”

Gaston’s territory and if that’s the passage they need, the shipment can only mean one thing.

“Not happening,” Derrick replies immediately. “We told you before that you don’t have a say or any control of our men or our businesses. You, for sure, can’t use our connections.”

“Don’t be a sourpuss, love. We’re family now, after all. This merge is going to happen whether you like it or not. Right, Adam?”

She turns to him with those piercing soulless eyes. It doesn’t fucking scare him.

“Nothing’s been announced yet. Until there’s something solid, things can change,” he replies as coolly as possible.

In his mind, his hands are around her throat and squeezing as tight as he can. He can just imagine the crush of her esophagus within his hands.

“Is that what you’re waiting on?” she stands and snarks. Her claws are showing again. “You’re waiting on an announcement?” she asks now, with a much calmer tone.

The calm tone and drastic mood swings scare him more than her bark.

They’re interrupted when Stella walks in with Willa carrying a tray of various drinks. Stella captures him for a moment before she turns and beams at her husband when she sets the tray down. Willa does the same with her tray and immediately leaves.

“We were discussing business, Mrs. King,” Isabella immediately snaps.

“Oh,” Stella says. He sees her hand tighten on the decanter of juice she’s holding. “Well, great minds think better with refreshments.”

Isabella loudly scoffs not even trying to hide her disdain.

And what the fuck is up with Stella? Why is she playing the weak little housewife? She’s normally full of comebacks and cutdowns. God, he hopes with every bone in his body that she doesn’t feel so much guilt for her mistake that she’s willing to bow down to the likes of Isabella.

But Stella doesn’t crack. She hands Isabella the glass of juice with a smile.

“I’ll leave you all to your business then.”

It fucking breaks his resolve. Stella trusted them. She’s trusting them now and she’s been berated in her own home by this fucking bitch.

“Get the fuck out,” Derrick tells the siblings in his lowest voice.

Cristian still hasn’t even said anything about this business. He’s too busy with the brandy.

“We stand behind our decision. You have NO control over our business. You do NOT get to use our resources to grow yours!” Derrick reiterates the obvious.

Rory steps away from the front of the door, scowling at the siblings to let them know that it’s time for them to leave.

Isabella sets her glass down and reaches for her large handbag. She pulls out a yellow envelope and heads over to the desk.

“Here are the details about the shipment,” she says, throwing the envelope onto the desk. “We’re not asking,” she says as calm and as cool as ice. “Need I remind you that my uncle knows about this deal and is expecting to see the results. And if he knows, then I’m sure as head of the East Coast Famiglias, Don Mazzilli must know as well.”

She tosses her long, shiny hair back before waltzing over to him like she’s strolling in Soho. On a stretch, she tries to touch her lips to his. He turns his head again, jerking his head back and out of her reach altogether.

“I can still smell her on you,” she whispers for his ears only.

With those parting words, he’s jaw-dropped as she struts