Page 92 of Winning Bid

“It won’t be that bad,” he swears as we ride the elevator up to his father’s floor. “Think of him like a judge you need to impress who maybe doesn’t like you.”

“Judge, jury, and executioner, you mean.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

I cock a brow at him, and that shuts him up. “Given your father’s illustrious reputation in certain circles, am I really?”

We had agreed not to speak about his father’s illegal underworld dealings inside the building unless Elliot brought it up first. We didn’t know who knew what or what rooms could have been bugged, so it seemed prudent. But when I said what I said, he knew what I meant.

“Well, he did kill your career, so you’re entitled to your opinion.”

“Gee, thanks for your permission.”

Anderson sighs at me. “You know what I mean.”

“And you know what I mean.”

Things had been like this since he suggested we meet with Elliot. I love Anderson with my whole heart and soul. I love him more than myself, truly. So, the painful hold he allows his father to have over him absolutely kills me. It’s beyond unhealthy. It’s straight-up abusive. From what he’s told me, it always has been.

Elliot West is a cold, distant man who treats people like objects instead of human beings. I felt that way before I learned he was some kind of mafia don, and learning that has not improved my opinion of him. I’ve always been the kind of person to give the benefit of the doubt, but when someone fucks me over, I will cling to my grudge until it no longer serves to remind me who they are.

But I am not sure about this particular grudge. Does it serve me any longer?

Yes, he was an absentee father to Anderson and his brother Cole. But, given what he does, maybe that made sense to him. If he had been warm and kind to his sons, his enemies might have used them against him. Or he probably thinks being icy to his sons helps them in some toxic masculinity sort of way.

Should I even try to give the benefit of the doubt to a man who has ordered people to be murdered? Probably not. But, since he is going to be my father-in-law one day, I need to make peace with him. If for no other reason than he is going to be my children’s grandfather, who also happens to be loaded.

College is expensive, and sometimes, we have to do what we have to do.

I almost shake my head at myself for thinking that. Here I am, giving him shit for thinking of people as tools, and I am doing the same thing. But at least I’ve never ordered the murder of another human being. I’m still morally ahead of him for now.

But if he keeps pissing me off, that might change.

Anderson waves his hand in front of my face. “You in there?” The elevators doors are open. I’m not sure how long they’ve been open.

“Yeah,” I tell him, smiling brightly. “Let’s do this.”

He leads me through the floor. It’s not much of a maze, but I’m glad I have a guide. The place is beautiful, with all high-end furniture and flattering lighting on warm wooden surfaces. But I don’t let the beauty fool me. We are here for one reason and one reason only.

Change the mind of an underworld boss.

When I told myself I needed a hobby, this was not what I had in mind.

We stroll hand in hand toward an old woman at a desk. She smiles at Anderson, gives me the once over, and then smiles when she sees our hands joined. “Laddie, you get yourself in some trouble here, eh?”

He grins down at her. “Margaret, this is June Devlin, my fiancée.”

“Oh, blessed be,” she says in her Irish accent. “Your father is the one in trouble, then, for not telling me.”

“He’s a private man when it comes to family. You know that.”

“Aye, but he’s still in trouble. No shortbread for him this week?—"

Anderson gives a teasing gasp, clutching at his chest. “No, not the shortbread!”

She snickers at his acting. “Maybe just one because you’re being kind about it. Go on in, laddie. He’s ready for you.”

“Thank you, Margaret.”

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