Page 228 of Pretty Little Lies

Yet, he took that away from me, too.

“Torin, this isn’t the time nor place for you to throw a temper tantrum,” Ramsey drones as though he’s bored at his younger brother’s entrance to the room. “We’re in the middle of a meeting.”

“I’m part of this family,” Torin inserts casually, making his way over to the chair across from us. “Carry on.”

“Then shut your mouth when we’re speaking,” Emilio warns with a glower when Torin rests his palms along the back and bends over a bit over it. Then brings his thumb and index to his lips pressed together as if zipping his mouth shut.

As if that’s going to do anything.

“Now, to answer your question,” Ramsey continues, getting back to business and less of the small talk. “I’m pretty easy to work with.” Torin scoffs, then which has his brother silent for a moment, then tacks on, “Unlike my petty brother. So, you’ll see the difference.”

“She definitely will,” Torin deadpans before his father points at the door.

“Out.”

Torin raises his hands off the chair. “Keep going. What’s Miss Astor going to do with us now?”

“I don’t think you can handle this conversation,” Ramsey clips back. “This is for grown-ups only. And the contents are going to make you lose your shit.”

“I think I can manage.”

Ramsey waltzes forward, but Torin doesn’t turn around to face him. Undeterred about anything his brother might do. Like reaching for a knife and stabbing him literally in the back. “Then welcome my future wife into the family, brother.”

My blood runs cold as Torin lifts a brow. When I expect him to flip the damn chair over, he only easily keeps his focus on me. “Wife, huh?”

“Watch the next words that come out of your mouth,” Ramsey warns flatly. “And always remember who you’re speaking to.”

“Oh, I do,” Torin agrees. “Couldn’t forget if I tried. She’s the one you’d turn a blind eye to, Pops. You’re blood. Fuck that Judah wasn’t your DNA, you’ll gladly shove his death down the shitter because your true heir is sitting at your side right now.”

“This changes nothing,” Emilio leers. “She’s a link to South Shore. This helps us end?—”

“End what?” Torin returns, looking unimpressed that his father would even think this was a good idea. “Are you so out of it that you thinkyou’regoing to be welcome in South Shore? That she’s going to take you with her? The man who put Penn Northcott away?” He snorts with a slight shake of his head. “Get a grip, old man. It’ll be a civil war when she turns her back on you because webothknow she wants nothing to do with anything you can offer.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Ramsey interjects. “We’re taking a big risk with her, regardless of whose daughter she is or not. This ceases a war where Wallace will see how well we take care of her. That we want to try.”

“You wouldn’t know because he’d be the first person he killed, Rams. You wouldn’t live to see any of that.”

“Don’t be so sure about that when you’re the one who had him thrown in jail.”

The corners of Torin’s eyes coil a bit, as if impressed by his work. “Eh, Wallace is tactful.”

“Quit making things harder on yourself, son,” Emilio insists. “I know that you’re grieving your brother, but?—”

“And you’re not,” Torin points out, defeat laced in his tone. “I can see that I’m the only one who gives a fuck about him. That wants to see his death avenged. But, my bad, you’re still probably pissed at him for leaving. For him not wanting to be a part of your stupid ass crew that you were building. The new life he wanted for himself.”

“Judah would’ve come back,” Emilio answers confidently. “I wasn’t going to hold him, only for him to push more. That’s what you kids do.”

“And parents don’t welcome their child’s murderer into their home either.” Torin’s heated gaze falls back on me, and I actually cower back a bit. “Would you have married me without this? To take possession of The Landings so you could filter out the people you didn’t want? I know you’d kill Emilio if you had the chance. That, or you’d just have Levi do it.”

I inhale deeply, hating how my body is still drawn to him in ways that I’m fearful I’ll never be able to sever. This isn’t the way I wished for this to go and, currently, I’m barely holding on by a thread.

“Why Emilio when I can just have you assassinated?” I solicit evenly, holding his pretty eyes that promise that he’s going tostrangle me the next time the opportunity strikes. “I want to make sure the bullet counts.”

The corners of Torin’s lips lift again in a cruel smirk. One that’s not very tickled with the fact that I’m sitting in a room with the people he grew up with.

I’m an outsider and we all know it. Regardless, if I’m blood or not.

“That’d be fitting,” he replies, straightening his spine and alluding that he’s not going to make it through the rest of this much longer. “Since you shot my brother.”

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