Page 78 of Seizing Control: Part One

The fucking arsehole...

Just like he stole my woman and my club, he stole the wedding I had planned.

Deliberately.

You see, me and Lily have been engaged for nearly four years.

Not one-hundred percent by my choice—I would’ve married her the day I proposed.

The delay was caused by Brutus’ reaction to our relationship, then by Sander’s issues, then she wanted to graduate first. Every time I broached the subject, tried to nail her down, my sweet thing had an excuse. Therapy. Her age. The timing. I didn’t push the point—heeding Slash’s advice when he said I should give her space. It went against my nature, but I did it. Agreed with her that that we’d do it once Dad’s health stabilised. Capitulated when the old timers mentioned that waiting until I was president would be better. Now, I can see that it was just another way the universe was telling me that I needed to make myself into something before I was allowed to officially possess her—heart, mind, body, and soul.

I thought being president would make me worthy.

That opportunity has slipped through my fingers.

Replaced by something better.

Something that means more.

Becoming Gabriel’s heir apparent.

The next Adjudicator.

That’s real power.

True worth.

It’s a position that appeals not only to my sense of fair play and justice, but to the side of me that has always felt less than. I’ll be judge, jury, and executioner of the underworld. Adjudicator of every dispute, misdeed, and powerplay. From the very top of the Trinity in Catalonia to the newest foot soldier, as the incoming independent arbiter of right and wrong, my word will be law and my decrees unappealable.

My sentences will also be inescapable.

An array of punishments at my fingertips that I plan on meting out liberally.

“Was she happy?” I’m not sure why that’s my first question, but it feels important. “How did she look?”

Gabriel screws up his face, acting as if the mere thought of happiness is a personal affront. “Little Cherub was surprised, and while she rallied, it was clear she had reservations. That’s somethin’ she must work on before Saturday. The Trinity must believe that she’s trustworthy if they’re to support this union without question.” He taps the bottom edge of his ream of documents on the table to straighten them, then he gestures for me to take the seat opposite him. “Your best friend has a peculiar way of being honest.”

“What did he do?” A serpent like tension coils within me. My blood congeals in my veins as my heart slows to a snail’s pace and my temper starts to simmer. Right leg bouncing, I scrub my fingers through my hair. “Is Lily okay?”

“Slash informed her that you’re pleadin’ guilty.” Shaking his head, Gabriel throws his hands up. “He kissed her, then he dropped everything on her head at once—it’s not how I would’ve done it. Especially the way he just left her afterward... on her knees and bereft of actual details.” Since I know that Gabriel is more robot than human, I don’t find his disjointed explanation confusing. My imagination can fill in the blanks. “He simply walked away, leavin’ the rest of us to console her.”

The pressure in my chest reaches detonation point. I stand abruptly. The chair legs screech on the concrete floor, then without a viable target to aim my fury at, I settle for pacing the length of the meeting room while I mull over the pain Slash has caused metukà shelì with his carelessness.

“What the fuck was he thinkin’?”

“I don’t believe he planned it.”

“How could he treat her like that?”

“Toker went after him, so I imagine he’s quite sore right now.”

“Did she say anythin’ afterward?”

“Little Cherub demanded to speak to you, but I informed her that you aren’t willin’ to see her.”

“Fuck.” My feet grind to a halt, and I jam both hands in my hair. Pulling hard, I luxuriate in the sting that ripples over my scalp as I’m forced to face the repercussions of my choice to mess with Slash. “Are the Blackards still at the farm?”

“Yes.” Gabriel regards me with curiosity. “They have decided to stay for the wedding.”

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