“Damn, Sam. Can I get an answer in?”
“Watch your mouth, little girl.”
I sigh. “Sorry. But I can explain if you’ll let me,” I lie. Because I’m obviously not explainingeverything. Guilt already eats at himfor not protecting me after Mom died. If I confess the whole truth to him, he’ll confront Asad and lose his life. I can’t have that. “Yes, you’re right. And honestly, not much has changed except that I’m not leaving Cross as soon as I planned. Asad approached me”—broke into my house—“and offered a proposition.”Threatened me.
I break down the terms we negotiated last night, forgoing mentioning the threats and coercion that came before that. By the time I finish, the lines etched in Sam’s face ease, and though he doesn’t look pleased, he also doesn’t appear to be in a murderous rage either.
He studies me for several long, uncomfortable moments, then finally, he nods.
“Okay. I can’t lie, Ember. I’m not thrilled about this… arrangement. I wish there was another way other than you shackling yourself to Prince, even if it’s for three years. Still, as mean of a son of a bitch as Prince is, he can provide the best protection for you right now. Your father’s killer is still out there, and we’re no closer to knowing who they are—”
“I can take care of myself, Sam,” I grind out. “I’ve been doing it for the last decade.”
“You shouldn’t have had to.”
“Doesn’t change the past though.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, bowing his head. When he lifts it, regret drenches his dark eyes. “Believe me, I will never forget that I can’t change the past. But I will do everything in my power to make sure your here and now is different. This transition in Cross isn’t going to be a smooth one; I think you can tell that for yourself from what we witnessed here today. And all I want is your safety. And your happiness. You deserve it more than any of us. If that means being Prince’s wife for a little while so you can walk away with your freedom and a piece of the empire you helped build, then I’ll support you. Although I wish you would’ve come to me first—trusted me to talk this over first—before accepting Prince’s proposal, I respect your decision.”
I reach for his hand, wrapping my fingers around his and squeezing.
“This isn’t about trust, Sam. Hell, you’re one of the very few in this world I can say have that from me. It’s about making the best decision for me and my future. I’m used to looking out for myself without anyone’s input, so as difficult as it is for you to hear, I didn’t think about consulting you. I did what needed to be done to survive.” And to save the lives of the people closest to me.
“Shit, Ember.” He glances away from me. “You’re killing me. I promised your mother…” When he looks at me again, for the first time, he wears all of his fifty-plus years on his face.
“Sam, I didn’t say that to punish you or make you feel guilty. You’ve been the one constant in my life. You’ve been more of a father than the shitty one I got. All the moments a child is supposed to have with their father, I experienced those with you. No, you couldn’t protect me in my own house, but that wasn’t your role; it was Marcus’s. But when I think of my college graduation, you were there. Don’t think I don’t know it was you who convinced Marcus to hire me at Cross in the first place.” I squeeze his arm, then drop my hand. “It is what it is. I just need you to support my decision, because at some point in these next three years, I’m sure you’re probably going to need to talk me down from murdering that muthafucka.”
“You mean your husband?”
I shrug. “That’s what I said.” He chuckles even though I’m dead ass. Tilting my head, I ask, “Your turn. How the hell you end up as Asad’s advisor?”
“He asked. I agreed,” he simply says. “I was your father’s legal counsel but also his friend. That made me privy to all the inner workings of this organization, and he often came to me for advice. Stepping up to this role for Asad won’t be much different. And it allows me to at least try and guide Cross into an even more prosperous future. Will let me preserve your legacy.”
“My legacy.” I scoff, ignoring the muted sting behind my ribcage. “You drafted and read the will. I don’t have a legacy. Not anymore. Marcus and your new employer made sure of that.”
I try to stem the bitterness trickling through me and to keep it out of my voice, but I fail at both.
“House of Cross will always be yours; I don’t give a fuck whose name is under CEO. Nothing can change the blood running in your veins.” Anger vibrates through his big frame, a scowl darkening his face.
“It’s a nice thought, Sam, but I’m too old for sentimental shit.” I give him a small smile. “Enjoy your new position. You deserve it, and Asad needs someone around him who won’t kiss his ass. Me? I’m just going to ride out these next three years until I’m free of all this.”
He studies me for several quiet moments before slowly nodding.
“Ember, I—”
“Asad, this is bullshit.” Michelle’s shrill, raised voice snatches my attention and interrupts Sam. He whips around to face the source of the disruption. Michelle stands in front of her son, her petite and slim body damn near vibrating with anger. Red tinges her light brown skin, and her full lips twist to the side while her shoulders hunch so high they almost touch the bottom of her short chandelier earrings. One hand is curled into a fist by her side, while she points a finger in Asad’s face with the other. Oh yeah, stepmama big mad. “You know these people for what, a couple of years? And yet you promote them, have them occupying the most coveted positions closest to you. But what about your brother? You just cut him out. He’s been here, been loyal from the beginning, and what do you reward him with? Street boss like all these other flunkies! It’s unfair, and he deserves so much better than that, Prince,” she shouts at him.
Thank God we are the only ones left in the room. One thing I know for certain about Asad is he doesn’t play about his respect. And mother or not, she won’t be exempt from his punishment.
“Give us the room, please,” Asad calmly says. But that calmdoesn’t extend to the grim set of his mouth or hard line of his jaw. His eyes glitter with malice, and a shiver races and trips down my spine. Most people shout when they’re enraged. Not Asad. The more enraged he is, the quieter and calmer he becomes. And right now, staring down at Michelle, he must be pissed the fuck off.
Usually, I’d pay for a first-row seat to the carnage that’s about to happen, but my desperation to be away from Asad outweighs my delight in witnessing Michelle get verbally molly whopped. I turn to leave with everyone else.
“Not you, Ember,” that deep, midnight voice demands, stopping me before I’ve made a few steps across the room.
Fuuuuck.
My face contorts into a grimace as I watch Sam, my safety net, walk out the conference room. Swallowing a sigh, I smooth my face out before turning and retracing my steps back to the table. But I halt short of standing next to Asad. Bad enough that even from this distance his woodsy musk teases, no, taunts me. I need his body heat to stop doing the same. I don’t like the man, but apparently my coochie is Team Pussy-Hound Stepbrother. Shit, she’s on her Oliver Twist shit.“Please, sir. Can I have some more?”