On cue, Diem walks forward. I’m still reeling, unable to pry my eyes off the woman I love. The woman I held in my arms. The woman who made me laugh. The woman who I never thought I’d see again. All her softness is gone. Her vulnerability lost. She can’t show weakness here, and neither can I. Even if she is standing in those high heels looking more fuckable than I remember.
I inhale and try to focus. Forcing myself to look away from her, I notice the men in the room. Every eye is trained on her body. The lust and want is evident in all of them—even my brothers. I want to tell them all to keep their fucking eyes off what belongs to me. I want to tell them that she is my woman, and I’ll kill any motherfucker who tries to cross me. But there’s something in the back of my head that’s telling me I might be wrong—she might not be mine at all.
“Cyrus,” she says, and I nearly groan at the sound of the ice in her voice. I want to throw her in the back of that limo and stick my fingers and tongue and cock in her until she speaks in that breathy tone I love.
“Yes ma’am,” he drawls, already underestimating her. I want to kill him more for showing her disrespect than for murdering my brother. The thought is unsettling, but I dismiss it—knowing if anybody can cut him down to size, my girl can. That is, if she’s still my girl.
She turns to walk back to the center of the floor, her lips pursed while she nods her head. I know that look. Something bad is fixing to happen. “I know that the transition for all of you will be difficult. But, I don’t care. I’m not sympathetic to your egos. If anyone has a problem with a woman being in charge, the door is open for you to leave.”
She gives us about three seconds to make up our minds, then continues. “That’s what I thought. Cyrus, you claim that Sinner’s Creed has been murdering your men. Do you have proof?”
I level Cyrus with a look, and can tell by his expression that he don’t have shit. “I don’t have any physical proof, no. But I do know that Shady has been MIA here lately and the days he wasn’t accounted for coincide with the dates my brothers went missing.”
“Shady?” she asks, and I remember that she only knows me as Zeke.
“Him.” Cyrus points to me, and when she turns, a flash of fear is in her eyes, but she quickly conceals it with a smile. Being a gentlemen and all, I smile back.
“Shady, huh?” Diem asks, her voice low but loud enough for everyone to hear. “Do you have any specific dates?” She keeps her eyes on me as Cyrus rattles off a bunch of dates. She quirks an eyebrow and I realize she’s doing the math in her head. Unable to verbally defend myself, I straighten and clench my jaw, trying to remind myself to keep my mouth shut.
“I can find people to vouch for that if you need me to,” Cyrus offers, digging my grave a little deeper.
“No need. I’m sure those dates are accurate.” She gives me her most threatening look and I have to bite my cheek to keep from smirking.
“So, you know I’m right,” Cyrus boasts, and I’m surprised he doesn’t give his VP a high fucking five.
Diem ignores him, then spits out another question. “Why would Shady want to kill your men?” She’s pissed now, although I think it’s more toward me than anyone.
“Because I killed his brother,” Cyrus answers, his voice deadpan as he looks at me over the top of Diem’s head.
“So turnabout isn’t fair play?”
“No. His brother and him killed twelve of my men. We offered a deal, but they refused. They sacrificed one of their own for money. They were warned.”
My hands fist and I feel Jimbo’s hand come to rest on my shoulder. It’s not to hold me back, because a bulldozer couldn’t do that. It’s a gesture of comfort or warning, I’m just not sure which.
“I see. And what was the name of this brother you killed?” Diem asks.
“Dirk.” I close my eyes at the sound of my brother’s name on that motherfucker’s lips.
“Dirk Dixon, right?”
He nods, and I feel the air shift in the room. The tension between Death Mob and Sinner’s Creed is unfathomable. But there’s something else too. I look around and notice that the guards seem to stand a little taller. Dorian seems to get a little colder, and Diem’s fingers twitch behind her back.
“Enough,” Dorian barks, and we watch as he walks across the floor, grabs a member of Death Mob, and pushes him to his knees. Pulling a gun from his back, he walks behind him and puts a bullet behind his right shoulder. The man’s screams echo off the walls as he falls to his side in pain. Then Dorian points the gun at the man’s head and pulls the trigger. The only sound is the ringing in everyone’s ears.