Samuel’s blank face faltered as his eyes narrowed. A cruel smile curled at my lips before I looked to Stefan, who had been quietly watching the two of us. I had caught the tiniest flicker of surprise in his eyes before he'd masked it.
“Enjoy your no-girls-allowed business meeting, gentlemen,” I said, tone facetiously chipper, and spun on my heel.
“Will I see you at dinner?” Stefan asked before I could leave the room. Looking over my shoulder, I gave him a small smile and nodded.
“Why do you even need to ask her?” Samuel questioned disapprovingly. “If you taught the little bitch respect, she’d know what’s expected—”
Stefan’s passive demeanor faded, turning cold, eyes promising nightmares as he fixed them on his brother. Samuel had fucked up. Coming after me was one thing, but he'd pulled Stefan into it. Tsk. Tsk. Watching my uncle squirm under the intensity of Stefan’s glare was a delight. I’d have liked to stick around for the ass ripping, but I was over all of the testosterone.
“You coming, Louie?”
CHAPTER 11
Louie and I spent the better part of an hour catching up. It was nice sitting with him, laughing and having lighthearted conversation. I told him about my time at Trinity—the people I'd met, the things I'd learned, the parties I'd experienced. He talked about his new position in the family that entailed him earning a seat at Stefan’s table. The table symbolized Stefan’s inner circle and it was where the leaders of the family sat during his weekly meetings to discuss business. Like Jamie, Louie was an enforcer, but he hadn't been born into our family. For an outsider to have a seat was a big deal. It hasn’t happened since Jamie’s dad.
“We need to go out to celebrate,” I said.
“I got my seat a year ago.”
“So what? I wasn’t here. We’ll drag Jamie along so he can sit in the corner sulking while we get hammered. We can make a game of it. Every time he frowns, we take a shot.” We’d be wasted within an hour.
A knock on my bedroom door interrupted our laughter before Jamie let himself in. His eyes shifted between us, taking in our smiling faces. “We got orders,” he told Louie, tilting his head toward the door. Louie sighed as he stood from the couch and the two of them left with a quick goodbye, leaving me to my own devices.
For the rest of the day, I forced myself to tie up loose ends. I contacted my insurance company to put a claim in for the fire. There was a lot of waiting on hold and questions I had to answer with lies. Seeing how I'd committed murder, you’d have thought insurance fraud wouldn’t bother me, but for some reason, I still wound up feeling irritated. After I'd finished withdrawing from school, I was done adulting for the day. My foul mood had me absently reaching to snap the missing bands at my wrist for the hundredth time. I had taken them off yesterday and I ached for them like a chain smoker missed nicotine. Going cold turkey sucked ass.
Seven o’clock—Stefan’s strict dinner time—rolled around faster than I wanted. With a frustrated sigh, I made my way downstairs.
Jamie and Stefan were already seated at the table by the time I entered the dining room. Stefan sat at the head of the long, maple wood table that was centered under a bright crystal chandelier. Jamie was seated to his left. I beelined for the large liquor hutch across the room to grab a crystal tumbler and one of the many decanters filled with amber liquid before heading to my spot on Stefan’s right. I dropped my glass loudly onto the table, popped the crystal cork, and poured myself a generous amount.
I glanced at Stefan as I took a big gulp. His brow rose in question. I ignored it. “What’s for dinner?” I asked, lifting my glass to take another sip.
Stefan reached out to grab ahold of my wrist, stopping the glass from reaching my lips. “What’s making you drink all my good whiskey?” That was hilarious. All he had was good whiskey.
“I’m embracing my Irish heritage by drowning my feelings.”
“I don’t like repeating myself, Maura.” Oh, he pulled out his Boss voice.
“I’m immune to intimidation, Stefan,” I mocked, putting extra emphasis on his name. It wasn’t wise to challenge the boss, but I was itching for a fight. His grip on my wrist tightened, not to the point of pain, just enough pressure to serve as a warning. I scoffed. “If you wanted me to be a timid female who toed the line, you probably shouldn’t—”
“Enough!” he barked. Releasing a frustrated sigh, he leveled his calm eyes with mine. “Might as well spit it out because I’ll find out one way or another.”
A mean smile adorned my lips. “I’m almost tempted to see what you’ll do.”
His anger flared and his eyes narrowed. “I’m trying,” he seethed. “No games. I’m asking you outright, but you’re making this harder for both of us.”
Taken aback, I looked away from him. If I wanted to talk about it, I would. But when he wanted to know something, he was relentless. We were both stubborn and our relationship was anything but easy. There were too many bad memories and too much lack of trust between us. He was trying, though. Could I say the same?
“I withdrew from school today,” I relented.
“And that’s why you’re upset?” he asked with a puzzled brow.
“I feel… I don’t…” I was floundering. Being forced to talk about it had left me unprepared to explain without sounding pathetic. “I feel like I wasted away six years of my life,” I finally admitted. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now. I have my bachelor’s, but there’s not much I can do without my master’s degree or doctorate. I refuse to take on the role of a typical female in this family. So don’t get any ideas about marrying me off,” I said, eyeing Stefan. “I have no purpose, no goal, no plan. I feel like I’m floating in limbo and I don’t like it.”
“Do you regret killing them?” he asked, dropping his hand from my wrist.
“No.” I didn’t hesitate in answering. “I just need to find something to do before you find a reason to wife me to someone.”
“We both know you’ll never have to worry about that,” he assured.
About six months before I'd left for college, things had not been good between us and the De Luca family—the Italian Mafia who held territory west of the Housatonic River. I’d overheard a couple of goons gossiping about how the don, Giovanni De Luca, had been murdered. And because there’d always been beef between our two families, the De Lucas had accused us. Couldn't say I would have been surprised if we'd been responsible, but Jamie had assured me we hadn't.
There had been talk of war. Security around Quinn manor had doubled. There had been a few deaths on both sides before new rumors had started floating around that the family—all the leaders in Stefan’s inner circle—had been trying to convince him to marry me off to the new don to broker peace. When those rumors made their way to me, I'd snapped. Being forced to marry a stranger and having to consummate that forced marriage? To me, that was rape. I would have rather died than face that again. I'd been barely holding on to my sanity as it was, and they had been going to feed me to the wolves to save their own asses? Fuck the family.