I followed Jamie as he strolled right in. Stefan noticed him first before his intense gaze traveled to me.
I froze, planting my feet on the dark carpet. My expression relaxed, revealing nothing. Locking down everything I was feeling, I flipped that imaginary switch inside me. Six years of conditioning myself to act normal was wiped away in an instant. I was now in the presence of the most dangerous man alive. It didn’t matter that he was my father. If I showed him weakness now, I might find myself going through another one of his torturous lessons later.
Stefan got to his feet, buttoning the front of his black Armani suit jacket before smoothing away the nonexistent wrinkles, and walked around his desk to greet me. As he approached, his gaze wandered over me, reading my lack of reception. For a moment, I thought he was going to hug me by the way his arms started to rise, but he stopped his approach a few feet before me and shoved his hands into his pockets. Disappointment stabbed me in the chest. I refused to let it show.
We stared at each other in silence, awkwardness filling up the space between us. I took in his changes since we'd last seen each other, as I was sure he was doing with me. His light brown hair was brushed with a little gray at the sides of his temples, but his face was still as youthful as ever, maybe more so than I remembered. Even his forest green eyes were wrinkle-free. I had my father’s eyes and some of his facial features, like his nose, but my dark red hair definitely came from my mother. Stefan was a quarter Italian and three quarters Irish due to an alliance marriage a few generations back. My mother had been full-blooded Irish with pale skin and freckles, which she'd cursed to me. I had a splash of them across my nose and cheeks. If I avoided the sun like a vampire, I’d save the rest of my body from gaining more.
“You can drop the facade, Maura. I think you’ve proven yourself. Believe it or not, I’m very happy you’re home.”
My eyes snapped to his before narrowing, searching for truth. I hated this. There was nothing right about what he said or how it gave me a whirlwind of bipolar emotions. I was thrilled he was happy to see me but pissed that he had to give me permission to trust him enough to show it—that I was allowed to relax around him.
His brow rose, waiting. My body slightly relaxed while my mask held. Disappointment hardened his eyes. “I suppose that will have to do. May I hug my daughter now?”
Taking a step forward, I softened a little bit more. He pulled his hands from his pockets and closed the distance between us. His arms enveloped me with warmth. My arms hesitated for only a moment before squeezing tightly around his waist. Knowing he couldn’t see my face, I let myself completely relax, allowing my emotions to surface.
It’s been a long time since he hugged me like this. Instead of dwelling on that sad thought, I tried to focus on the moment and absorb his affection as much as I could.
As I felt him begin to pull away, I stepped back with my mask back in place. I searched around for Jamie. He had taken a seat in one of the chairs in front of Stefan’s desk, giving us his back.
“So…” Stefan started, drawing my attention back to him. He gave me an amused look. “Am I going to find out why we had to dispose of two bodies?”
I glared at the back of Jamie’s head. The traitor couldn’t let me tell him? Sensing me, he turned, his expression schooled. Jackass.
Leaving me standing there, Stefan returned to his desk. Once he was comfortably situated in his chair, oozing the superiority of a CEO, he gestured to the open chair next to Jamie for me to sit. It was like we were about to have a business meeting and discussing killing people was normal. I guessed in their line of work it was—came with the territory, as it were.
I took a deep breath, strengthening my resolve before sitting. My eyes shifted from Jamie to Stefan, taking in his unbelievably youthful features again. Both waited patiently, watching me. I must have been staring for too long, looking contemplative, because he gave me a questioning look.
“Sorry. I’m debating whether it’s really good genes or you’ve started dabbling in Botox. You’re forty-six years old and your face is suspiciously youthful.”
Being more experienced than anyone with the unfiltered shit that spewed out of my mouth, he smirked. “And which conclusion are you leaning toward?” he asked as if this were a serious topic.
“I need to see Samuel before I make a firm decision.” My uncle Samuel was my father’s identical twin.
“I’ll await your final decision, but let’s get back on topic.”
My fingers brushed over the rubber bands on my wrist. They were a stress experiment I'd done for one of my classes last year. My conclusion had been that it was a successful technique to temporarily alleviate stress or anxiety. Temporary being the operative word. Ever since I'd started the experiment, they'd sort of become an addictive crutch, which was why I hadn’t taken them off. The temptation to snap them right now was strong. To prevent my fingers from developing a mind of their own, I stuffed them under my thighs. That’s when I caught Jamie staring in my peripheral vision. His eyes were fixated on the bands.
“I forgot my presentation at home,” I started, pulling his eyes away from my wrist, “that I needed for my afternoon class.” I continued on to tell them how I'd found Tom in the shower with Tina and everything that had transpired after. I skipped over their pillow talk.
They were quiet, absorbing the information. Stefan stared at me, wearing a frown while tapping on his desk with his fingers. “You killed them because your boyfriend cheated even though you were debating whether or not you should pretend you didn’t see anything? That doesn’t scream 'crime of passion' to me.”
“Cheating’s not a good enough reason?” Was the boss of the Irish mob seriously nitpicking my motive? I was blown away by the irony.
“From what you just told me, apparently not.” He leaned back in his chair, appearing relaxed. I knew better. It was a facade—a technique to get your opponent to mimic and let down their guard. “You’re withholding something.”
“What happened in the closet that you’re not telling us? You were very detailed about everything else but when it came to your time in the closet you rushed through it,” Jamie asked.
The two most perceptive men in the world were sitting before me. Damnit! I should have been more careful. I fought the urge to shift in my chair. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I was stuck in the closet with no choice but to listen to them fuck.”
Stefan’s features slowly morphed, turning cold. His eyes darkened into a monstrous shade. He began to exude anger and that detachment I knew all too well. I’d wondered when his true colors would show. The boss was a trembling sight. Too bad for him I wasn’t thirteen anymore. With so many lessons I’d endured at his hand, there was very little he could do that would scare me.
“Don’t play dumb, Maura,” he said, voice eerily calm. It was like a predator giving false reassurance right before it struck.
“Am I?” I asked just as calmly, my darkness slithering to the surface, taking the reins. Everything in my body released from the tension of the moment to relax into a confident posture. Where he exuded hostility and sharpness like a knife’s edge, my body screamed twisted excitement and eagerness to play. I was in the presence of a formidable opponent, after all. Imagining going head to head with him made an evil smile slowly pull at my mouth.