Page 168 of Bishop

“I guess… I just need to throw on some pants.”

“Do it and start heading into the city now. You’re already being watched.”

“What? Who the hell is—”

“We’ll discuss it when you get here. Just make sure you lose the tail.”

“Abri, who the fuck is watching me?” Anger enters his voice.

“You don’t want to know, and you won’t have to find out as long as you drive like the wind.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “If anyone sees me with you I’m a dead man.”

I wince, hating how right he is. Hating that I have to ignore it for the sake of my daughter.

“My family is going to war, Aaron. We both want to be fighting on the right side, and we need each other to figure out which side that is.” I shimmy out of my jeans and rush to the closet to pull out tight black pants, a matching blazer, a white satin top with a scandalously low neckline, then a matching thin scarf. “I’ll see you soon.”

I disconnect and get dressed.

I’m in the bathroom, finishing the final touches on my makeup when a knock sounds at the door.

My cell vibrates with a text seconds later.

Remy

It’s me.

I quickly let my brothers in, both of them taking in my borderline sultry appearance, Salvo’s narrowed judgment far more scathing than my youngest brother’s.

“I don’t like this.” Salvo stalks forward, barging past me. “I don’t trust Geppet.”

“You don’t need to trust him.” I open the door wider, giving Remy more space to walk inside. “You only have to watch him. And if that’s an issue, I can do this alone. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

I conveniently leave out the part where my only non-guarded scheme ended with Bishop having to save me from being beaten and raped.

“Ignore him.” Remy squeezes my shoulder as he passes. “We’ve got your back.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t have her back.” Salvatore stops at the end of the king-sized bed, arms crossed over the chest of his designer suit. “I just don’t like the undertones of where this could lead. How far are you willing to go to get information on your daughter?”

I ignore the sucker punch of shame and head into the bathroom. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” I meet my gaze in the mirror, forcing myself to become the persona staring back at me. The temptress. The belladonna. “If you have a problem with that, hurry up and get over it or leave.”

I apply my lipstick and smack my lips together, ignoring Remy as he comes to stand in the doorway.

“Don’t get huffy,” he murmurs. “He’s worried. We both are.”

“I’m not huffy.” I adjust my scarf so the long lengths drape down my back instead of covering my cleavage.

“You’ve gotta admit, this is fucked up. We’re only coming to terms with what Mom and Dad made you do, and now—”

“Don’t you dare do this to me.” I turn to face him, his expression pinching with remorse. “I need to get my head in the game. I can’t have you two judging me.”

“It’s not judgment—”

“Like hell it’s not.” I move to walk past him, but he blocks my path.

“Abri, this is guilt. We let you down and feel like shit because of it. But there’s no place we’d rather be than by your side.”

“You won’t be by my side. You’ll be hiding out of sight.”

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