I halt mid-stroke. Is Kailler saying that because she thinks I’m reneging on my deal with Karin Vieth or because she thinks that Cora hates me? Either way, I should do as my second suggests, but when I lift Cora up off my lap, her arms tighten around my neck, and her crying increases. Panicked, I look at Kailler, but this time she averts her gaze. She doesn’t know what to do about Cora either.
“What would Lawson do?” I ask.
“Lawson’s the villain,” Kailler sneers.
Cora heaves a sob.
“If I knew what he would do, then I’d know what to avoid,” I inform both of them.
Cora just shakes her head while Kailler’s lips press together so tightly they disappear. This is not working out for me. I wish I could order Cora to stop crying, but I feel like that would be met with more evil glares.
“Cake,” I say suddenly.
“C-cake?” Cora stutters.
“What?” Kailler says at the same time.
“Cake.” I nod emphatically. “I want a white champagne cake with fluffy frosting and…”
“Strawberries?” Cora offers quietly. The tears on her lashes look like diamonds. She could ask me for anything looking as sweet and tender and vulnerable as she does in this moment.
“And strawberries.”
Kailler is on the phone before I finish my sentence. Cora looks like she’s about to ask me a question, and I’m not equipped to answer anything at this moment, not with Kailler next to me and Dante driving. I shove her face back into the crook of my neck and stroke her back again. It settles her—and me, I guess, because as the vehicle speeds back to our compound, my tension seems to fade away. Cora leans into me, her bones like liquid. Her breath slows and evens out. The crying storm seems to have worn her down. That, and the motion of the auto, has put her to sleep.
When we arrive at headquarters, a battalion rushes out. I raise a finger to my lips to tell everyone to shut the hell up while Kailler makes a throat-cutting motion. Carefully, I unfold from the seat, holding Cora tightly to my chest. She feels too light. I’m going to need to feed her cake every day.
The elevator to the tower floor is too fucking loud, but Cora doesn’t shift. Kailler opens the door to the apartment and then leaves. The space is dead quiet except for the quiet huffs of breath from Cora. I carry her over to the bed, but at the last minute turn to the sofa overlooking the city scape. If I put her in the bed, won’t I have to let her go? I’m not ready for that.
I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready for that. I’ve only got five days left with Cora, and already I’m getting pissed about the idea that she won’t be in this tower room whenever I want to see her. Karin Vieth gave this girl to me, and I don’t see a future where I give Cora back, but how do I keep Cora and not engage in a war with Vieth? How can I touch Cora, devour her, and still avenge Poppy?
In all the years that I’ve been at the top, I’ve never had this dilemma. My word was my bond, and my bond was to Jason Chu, the man who dragged me out of the gutter, educated me, trained me, and taught me the way of the world. He entrusted his legacy to me, and for a decade, I’ve kept to the path without even the slightest temptation to deviate. That this one slight girl has brought me to my knees in a matter of days is humiliating, and yet...I don’t care. I don’t fucking give one single damn what anyone says so long as Cora remains mine.
The solution slides into view so easily that I wonder why I didn’t think of it before. History is replete with disputes solved by the union of two opposite forces. A smile curves across my face for the first time in a long while. I slide Cora off my lap and cover her with a blanket. In my office, I meet with my lieutenants.
“I want a priest here in the next hour.”
“Don’t look at me,” says Kailler. “I’m an atheist.”
“Bran goes to church,” offers Pole.
“It’s Mass, and my priest can’t marry you,” Bran says. “You aren’t Catholic.”
“How much?”
Bran gapes at me. “You’re asking me to bribe Father Regio?”
“Yes. I’ll throw in a little extra so he can say a prayer for my sins.” I give the crew a chin nod to tell them that the conversation is over.
“Should I call Vieth?” Kailler asks.
“No. We’ll inform her when the deed is done.”
“What deed?” Pole blurts out. He’s bewildered, but Kailler’s pleased. She knows what my plan is and approves. She collars Pole and drags him out. Everyone else follows.
Over her shoulder, she says, “You’re going to need flowers and a dress and a ring.”
When I open my mouth to order her to get those for me too, she says, “No. Do it yourself,” and then slams my office door shut.
And so behind the desk that is stained with blood, I call up a jeweler and pay him an exorbitant amount of money to have a tray of rings, a fleet of dresses, and an orchard full of flowers here in one hour.
“Who is getting married, Aidon?” Oliver Sousa asks in his soft Brazilian accent.
“I am.”
There’s a prolonged silence before Sousa says, “May I be the first to offer you congratulations, then.”
“That is absolutely the correct response, Sousa. If you have need of my services in the future, do not hesitate to ask.”
“Very good. Everything will be at the compound in one hour. It is my honor to serve.”
I hang up, steeple my fingers together, and smile again. Soon Cora will no longer be a Vieth.
Chapter14Cora
“Quiet. She’s sleeping. If you wake her you won’t like the consequences.” I peek open one eye to see one of Aidon’s men
