Page 151 of Forbidden Need

FIFTY

“SILVIO KNOW YOU murdered your father?” Conn asked. “Maybe you’ll catch a break and they’ll squeeze another couple of miles outta you, old nag. They’ll dangle this over your head, and you’ll pant like the little Manzani bitch you are. You roll over for him too? You like playing his whore?”

Her father must’ve killed her grandfather in what she could only imagine was an anger-fueled frenzy. And from the looks of it, that same craze had ahold of him again. Gritting his teeth, Ronald pulled back the hammer.

“No,” she said, leaping around Connel. “You don’t have to do this, Dad. We’ll… we’ll fix it. I’ll fix it!”

“How?”

“I…” Damn, she needed a minute to come up with something. “I—” An idea. “I’ll write it!”

“Write it?”

“An insider look, an undercover piece, another exposé. This time from inside City Hall. We’ll figure it out, all the details. You went undercover to, um, weed out corruption. Without knowing who you could trust, you couldn’t discuss it with colleagues. We’ll tell them only we knew, you and me. Silvio’s lost the Harvest deal anyway, what does he care if you name and shame his allies? They haven’t done him any good. This will shake things up, get a fresh batch of guys in there. Teach the old ones a lesson.”

“Silvio won’t—”

“We don’t have to say who they took bribes from. We’ll keep the Manzani name out of it. Evander listens to me, and I have a relationship with Helios. I can do this. I can pull the Manzanis back for you. I can protect you.”

No mention of the fact that Evander could be dying of septic shock at that moment or that Hell could be liberated soon and start a mission to grab power for himself. No, her father had killed once, in this desperate state, he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

For a second, Ronald seemed to consider it. Then his scrutiny narrowed on her guy.

“He won’t allow it. He won’t let you.”

“I make my own choices, Dad.” Believe it or not. “Connel supports me in whatever I choose.”

“You’ll support her?”

“No,” Conn said, deep and stern.

Fuck, what was he doing? “Baby…” Turning to him, she kept her back to her father, desperate to meet her lover’s gaze, yet he wouldn’t yield. “We have to think of the family. Of what’s best.”

“It’s about pride, Macushla.” Why wouldn’t he look at her? His cool stare stayed locked over her head on the man threatening them. “Ronald, here, is done. He’s a snake who doesn’t deserve our time or our loyalty.”

Maybe not, but he was the one holding the gun.

“We’ll figure it out. Together. As a family.”

“He’s not family. Not mine. Not McDade. Which are you, Macushla? McDade or McLeod?”

Was he asking her to choose? An ultimatum? He couldn’t. In the car he’d… They were supposed to be a unit, able to trust each other no matter what.

“Mo Grá—”

“Decide!”

If there wasn’t a gun in the equation, the choice would be so much easier.

“You don’t take her,” her father sneered. “Don’t take my child from—”

“Your child is my woman. She’ll write the story I tell her to write. She’ll write the truth. That you’re a sniveling weasel. A sorry excuse for a human. So weak you had to kill your own father to—”

“Enough! Sersha!” Pivoting a half turn, she loathed the weapon still aimed at them. “You’ll write my story.”

“McDade or McLeod,” Conn murmured next to her.

“You write mine,” her father said. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t. But you know the truth now, you know that—I can’t let the city down. It needs me.” Talk about arrogance. “I value it more than anything. It’s a sacrifice I had to make, I prioritize the city.” His position. His reality. His status. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

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