Page 31 of Point of No Return

Fucking hell. This entire union is a mess.

“Tyson doesn’t own everybody, you know.”

“I assure you. If he doesn’t now, he will.”

No one bothers us as we stroll out the front doors of the gym. The door squeals shut behind us, its rusted hinges groaning loudly. The gym is old and beat up, and it likely hasn’t been renovated since the 80s, but aside from the fact that it’s out of the way on a quiet side of town, hardly anyone here recognizes me. Or if they do, they know better than to say anything to me.

I dig the keys into the car ignition as Crew hops in the passenger side, but he hasn’t dropped the subject: “You’re a Benenati too. When Tyson dies, it will be you they look to.”

Maybe there’s truth to the words. Or maybe loyalty only lasts as long as the money does. Either way, I don’t glance at him as we make the drive back to Viserion.

Charlotte’s out with Liv until dinner later tonight, so at least I’ll have a few hours to myself. But as soon as we pull up and spot two sleek black cars already parked in the driveway, I have a feeling shit is about to go down.

“You going to need backup?” Crew asks, and I know that it’s only because Charlotte still doesn’t know he exists. But this is between my father and I.

“I’ll handle it.” As soon as I push through the front door, I know something’s off.

I hear voices from the dining room, and I dig a shirt out of my gym bag and throw it on before strolling through the doorway. I spot Charlotte first, standing in a long flowing dress in front of the fireplace. She’s practically cornered with her back to me and I notice Liv around the opposite side of the table with Tyson and two others.

Anger is a living thing in my chest. Charlotte forces a laugh at something one of the men says, casually taking a few steps back so that she has an out if she needs it.

Smart girl.

“Skar! You’re here,” Tyson says, but I’ve already found my way over to Charlotte. I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her against me.

She instantly turns, standing on her toes and looping her arms around my neck. “There you are.”

I can see from the look in her eye that she’s grateful for the interruption, and for a moment, I almost follow it through. I almost kiss her and show my father exactly what I think about forcing her into this. But then I remember what she’d said just a week ago:“Maybe I’m just uncomfortable with you touching me.”

Instead: “Hey, Charlie.” I press my lips against her head and watch as she crinkles her nose when I pull back. She doesn’t pull away.

“You’re sweaty.”

I make a pointed look over my shoulder toward my father. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Neither was I. I would have dressed properly,” she forces a smile, and I look down at her again, whispering:

“Why don’t you go get dressed, and I’ll have a talk with my father?”

“Are you sure?” she searches my eyes.

“Good to see you again, Skar,” one of my father’s men says from behind her.

I make a show of gripping her jaw carefully and pecking her lips. “Go,” I tell her, and when she disappears, I finally look at the men. “My father invited you,” I say simply, slinging my bag off my shoulder and letting it hit the table with a thud.

“Skar,” my father warns, but I wave him off.

Jamison grins, a glass of whiskey in his hand. “We figured we’d bring the company to you. Busy with the new bride and all,” he laughs, but when he sees the frown on my face, he doesn’t smile.

I shake my head. “You don’t bring work here again.”

“Oskar.” Tyson’s voice is hard but I cut him off again, realizing Liv still hovers in the corner, wringing her hands.

“Liv, would you go and help Charlotte?” I say and though I don’t look at her, I see her scurry away in the corner of my vision. “Now… Cut the bullshit, gentlemen. What is this?”

Thomson smiles, downing his drink and taking a seat next to my father. “I think it’s time we tell him.”

The bastard is only acting cocky because he feels like he has a leg-up above me. I clench my fists, doing my best to keep my anger contained. “That seems wise.”

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