Page 66 of Dust to Dust

“I thought that was supposed to happen in the morning?”

Callum’s mouth widened in a yawn. “I thought the same thing. But according to the experts in the mountain of fucking prenatal books Caterina’s been forcing me to read, it can happen any time of day.” With a shudder, he replied, “Sometimes all day.”

I snorted. “Has she discovered your weakness yet?”

“I’m working overtime to keep it from her.”

No one who had watched Callum maim and torture until he was covered in blood and guts would imagine he had a serious aversion to hearing someone vomit. I couldn’t imagine how he was handling poor Caterina throwing up.

Turning away from the sunrise, Callum eyed me curiously. “You spent the night torturing, didn’t you?”

“Aye,” I murmured around the mouth of my coffee mug.

“I didn’t know we had anyone on the block.”

“We didn’t. It came up last night.”

After I drew in a ragged breath, I informed Callum of everything that had happened at the club. When I got to the part about gutting Terrance Manning, he smashed his coffee mug onto the tiled floor. “Fucking hell, Quinn. What were you thinking?”

“He hurt Isla.”

“I heard that, and I understand protecting our dancers. But Terrance is connected throughout the city.”

“And most of those connections hate his fecking guts.”

“True. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t going to blow back a lot of heat on us. Word is going to get out that he had an altercation in your club shortly before he disappeared.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t think this through.”

“You didn’t. You thought with your dick.”

“Fuck you. It’s not like that.”

“I know it’s not.” When I cocked my brows at him, Callum sighed. “Caterina told me about the soup.”

“Why am I not surprised,” I grumbled.

“But it wasn’t the first time I heard it.”

Shaking my head, I replied, “Dare is no better than a woman when it comes to gossiping.”

Callum chuckled. “Aye, that’s true.” The amusement slid from his face. “Regardless of your feelings for this dancer, you took your possessiveness too far.”

“Excuse me? You killed a man for laying a hand on Caterina at Bandia.”

“She was my wife, and he was a fucking nobody rapist not a rich, connected man.” Callum angrily shook his head. “We can’t afford this right now.”

“Once again, give me some fucking credit, not to mention our IT team.”

Callum’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Taking my phone out of my pocket, I opened the internet to the Boston Globe’s website. I then handed the phone to Callum.

After his eyes scanned the headline, he jerked his head up. “They’re seriously publishing this?”

“Aye. I called in a favor.”

Callum’s gaze dropped back to the phone. “Millionaire businessman, Terrance Manning, murdered among unearthed secrets of trafficking and drugs,” he read aloud. “How the hell did you get them to write this? Terrance’s family could sue them for liable.”

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