Page 67 of A Very Daddy Christmas

Hamilton frowns. “We’ll call security if you don’t leave now.”

“We’re platinum members, asshole.” I can’t help but chuckle as I pour myself a glass of water. There are a couple of spare glasses on the table, and the more I invade their personal space, the more uncomfortable they feel. “I’m fairly sure we pay higher fees than you do. Forget security. You’re going to sit here, and you’re going to listen to what we have to say.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” George replies and tries to get up, but Waylan discreetly grabs him by the wrist and yanks him back down. “Get your hands off me!”

“I haven’t put my hands on you yet,” Waylan hisses with a deadly grin, “but I’d be more than happy to do just that.”

“It’s in your best interest to have this conversation with us, gentlemen,” Sebastian warns. “For the sake of civility. Consider it your last chance at an amicable conclusion before we bring hell to your doorstep.”

Orson sneers and leans back into his chair, trying to adopt a fearless demeanor. It’s a little too late for that, though. I’ve already seen the dread in his eyes. I’m the shark that caught the hint of blood in the water, and I’m gunning for him.

“Alright then. Let’s talk,” he says, a light tremor betraying his voice. “What do you want?”

“Call off your hounds,” Sebastian says.

“What hounds?”

“The ones who tried to kill us this past weekend,” Sebastian replies. “Four of them, former military or guerrilla fighters, but not as good as they might’ve advertised themselves to be.”

“You are sorely mistaken,” Orson says, shaking his head. “If I wanted you dead, I’d be a lot smarter in the way I’d go about it.”

I can’t help but smile. “So what you’re saying is, whoever did it wasn’t concerned about being out in the open?”

“Where did this supposed attack happen?” George asks.

And there it is. That flicker of mad confidence. He knows who did it, even though he acted like he didn’t when he approached us on the street. He’s aware that it happened, and he’s stupid enough to gloat about it, even though he clearly lacks the spine to be the actual author.

I lean forward, my gaze burning into his. “You think you’re pretty clever, George, but you lack foresight. And it will be your undoing. Any dirt you think you may have uncovered is nothing compared to what we’ll bring to the surface if you keep up your campaign against us and the Levine sisters.”

Orson clears his throat. “Gentlemen, I repeat, we had nothing to do with the incident you’re accusing us of. We fight our battles without violence. We use contracts and lawyers.”

“Ah, alright, so neither of you did it, yet you both know what happened,” I conclude. “I’m guessing Denaro told you afterward? If that’s the case, it makes both of you accessories after the fact.”

“No such thing,” Orson insists.

“What does he have on you?” Sebastian asks. “I’m genuinely curious. Do you owe him money? Did he put someone in cementshoes to help you out? What is it?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business!”

Sebastian chuckles softly. “But it is something.”

“Something big enough to have you both beholden to a very dangerous man,” I say. “But trust me, Denaro is nothing compared to the three of us when our lives, and the lives of people we care about, are threatened. You messed with the wrong folks, gentlemen. And you need to make it right.”

George and Orson exchange nervous glances. I can almost hear their hearts beating faster, pounding against their rib cages. I dare hope the right decisions will be made, but I’m soon disappointed. Orson scoffs in pure denial.

“We had nothing to do with whatever happened to you,” he states. “If you pissed the wrong people off, it’s your problem. I warned you, and I warned Cora, as well. What’s happening now is merely a consequence of your foolishness.”

“Are you sure this is how you want to play this game?” Sebastian calmly replies. He’s seething just beneath the surface, but he knows not to give them the satisfaction. He’s in perfect control.

“You chose this path,” Orson says.

I turn my focus on George. “And you, George? Are you content with spreading vicious rumors about Cora? Are you sure this is how you wish to proceed?”

“I’m sorry, but whatever decisions Miss Levine makes have nothing to do with me,” George says, raising his chin in defiance. “God-fearing folks are within their rights to refuse to associate with harlots and—”

“You really need to be careful about what words you choose to use in my presence,” I hiss, inching close enough to make the bastard sweat. “I don’t take kindly to insults,” I add, lowering my voice. “And I will rip you to fucking shreds if you keep attacking people I hold dear. It’s one thing to gossip like a bored housewife, Mr. Hamilton, and it’s a whole other thing to fling shit around like a crazed monkey. Choose your battles and prepare to face the consequences.”

“Are you threatening me?” he gasps, feigning outrage. He’s loud enough for other guests to hear, which draws unwanted attention.

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