Page 49 of Restless Hawke
And I’ve given them reason to question me.
Uncle Savage finally releases a long, heavy sigh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “What has he asked you to do?”
I shake my head and take another sip of my drink. “Nothing yet. I’m still working on the ten million I owe him.”
A muscle in Savage’s jaw tics. “I’ll give you the money.”
Fucking hell.
Anger scorches hot through my veins, and I slam my free hand down on the couch beside me and push to my feet. My drink splashes over the edge of my glass, but I don’t even care. “And he’ll fucking know about that. Don’t yougetit? It’s not about the money. It neverhasbeen. That man wantsmore, and he’s going to take it from me.”
All the frustration and guilt that have been building for weeks finally boil over. There isn’t any containing it now that I’ve opened the floodgates, and their insistence that what I did waswrongis only making me angrier when I wanted to come in here and smooth things over.
“And I’m okay with it because I betrayed Atlas. I betrayed all of you, and I’m not in any position to be doing anything other than begging for all your forgiveness…and doing what I can to make things right.”
Dad climbs to his feet with the help of the cane, stepping up into my face, and it’s like I’m looking at an older version of myself—if I had actually had half the drive that he seems to have been born with. “Not by sacrificing yourself.”
His hand trembles as he reaches out and clasps my forearm.
“Do you think we haven’t all made mistakes?” He snorts. “Look at me. Look what happened with Abello and the fallout from it. Everyone got hurt, including my goddamn wife. Yet your mother forgave me. God knows I don’t understand how, but she did. So did your Aunt Dani. And we all forgive you, but we won’t be able to forgive ourselves if something happens to you.”
I clench my jaw, torn between pulling him into an embrace and retreating from the way he’s looking at me right now—that mix of love, concern, and empathy. “I’m smarter than you give me credit for, Dad.”
His dark brows wing up. “No one here ever said you weren’t smart, Coen. You’re probably the smartest of any of us?—”
I choke on those words and the laugh that they elicit. “Yeah, real fucking brilliant. I walked right into that man’s trap.”
“No, you didn’t.” He scowls. “You have a gambling problem, and he took advantage of it. With my history, it’s no wonder you were predisposed and probably born with an addictive personality. You can’t blame yourself?—”
“I do, and I will.” I finally tug out of his hold. “And when he asks, I’m going to do whatever he wants me to if it’ll ensure everyone’s safety.”
Savage clenches his fists on the top of his desk. “And until then?”
I shrug. “Until then, I keep playing until I pay it back on my own.”
“How much do you still need?”
“Five million. But there’s a game in Vegas in two weeks, and I plan on being there to end at least that portion of my debt to the man.”
Isaac finally rises to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, clearly unhappy about what just went down between our father and me. “You lost in Macau?”
My back stiffens at the memory of that game—Allegra’s roaming hand and what mine did after—and I clear my throat. “I did.”
“To whom?”
An evil temptress…
“No one you know or would want to.”
* * *
ALLEGRA
My family isin the business.
When Coen told me that, I hadn’t imaginedthis…
Good God…
