Page 61 of Kingpin's Secret Baby

He nods toward the crowd. “That woman. You barely glanced at her before sending her off. She was gorgeous.”

I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Not in the mood.”

He watches me for a long moment before speaking, as if he’s considering his words carefully.

“Still sulking over Fantasia?”

“The information check out?” I ask instead.

“Two years, Piers. You’re telling me you’re still thinking about her after all this time?”

The question hangs in the air, but I don’t let it stir me. I don’t turn to him, don’t look at the expression on his face.

“You need to move on.”

I take a deep breath, the memories of Fantasia still raw despite the passage of time. “It's not that simple,” I say, my voice even but guarded.

Desmond leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. “You never stick around long,” he muses, tapping his fingers against the table. “ You come in, do the work, then disappear before anyone realizes you were here.”

I shrug, keeping my expression neutral. “I get the job done. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s not all that matters. You act like you’re some outsider looking in, but you’re not. You’ve been helping me take the knees out from under those bastards for months, Piers. Whether you admit it or not, you’re part of this.”

I shake my head, sighing. “I don’t overstay my welcome.”

Desmond scoffs. “That’s just it. I wish you would overstay your welcome. You've had all this time to assimilate into the Crowes. You could’ve been a part of something bigger than just the Warwick family. But you chose to stay in Wesley Hall.”

I feel a twinge of frustration but keep my tone level. “I've been helping you take down the O'Connor gang. I've been a part of this, Desmond.”

“Helping?” Desmond's voice is gentle but insistent. “You've been a ghost hovering on the periphery, always keeping a foot back. That's not how family works, Piers.”

I sigh, knowing this conversation isn't new. “Desmond, I appreciate what you're offering, but I've made my choice. I'm the head of the Warwick family. That's where my loyalty lies.”

“They're not your blood.”

“Neither was my adopted mother, but she loved me more than our father ever has.”

Desmond's expression tightens for a moment before smoothing out. “Da's... complicated. But that doesn't change the fact that you're family. You belong here, with us. Not rattling around that empty house, pining after a woman who clearly doesn’t want to be found.”

The words hit their mark, as he knew they would. I drain my whiskey, welcoming the burn.

“Doesn’t matter,” I mutter, pushing the glass around on the table, my fingers rubbing the edge. “She made her choice. Besides, I'm fine where I am.”

“Are you?” Desmond leans forward, his voice dropping. “Because from where I'm sitting, you look like a man who's given up. You help me with business, sure, but you never let yourself get too close. And for what? So you can go back to England and pretend you're not still in love with her?”

I stand abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. “We're done here.”

“Piers.” Desmond's voice stops me. When I look back, his expression is serious. “You don't have to be alone. Whatever our father thinks, whatever happened in your past - you're my brother. You have a place here. A family.”

For a moment, I let myself imagine it. Trading Wesley Hall's empty corridors for the warmth of the Crowe compound. Having a brother, a family who shares my blood if not my history.

But then I think of Susan Warwick, who chose me when no one else would. Of the responsibility I was bestowed upon. Of the life I built, the one Fantasia walked away from.

I can't abandon it. Not even for this.

“I know,” I tell him softly. “But I've already got a family. And responsibilities I won't walk away from.”

Desmond's jaw tightens. “Even if it means being alone?”

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