Page 16 of Vengeful Secret

“Nevertheless, you know what you’re doing.”

“Do I?”

I’m not so sure. Work has always been the same—we do the shipments. We collect the money. We talk to the right people and suss out the wrong people.

But now, everything’s different. Everything’s secret, my father’s injuries, the fact that I’m taking over... I’m used to secrets being in the Irish mob, of course, but at the same time, I’m not used to this many secrets.

“Of course, you do,” she huffs. “You’ve always been your father’s right-hand man, haven’t you?”

I nod slowly.

“He’s been training you for moments like this, Gray. You’ve got this.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Your men trust you. Your dad trusts you. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have asked you to step up.”

“I guess you’re right,” I murmur. “It’s just…it feels like I never got time to process everything, you know? Da was shot and then suddenly, I was the boss.”

She winces slightly, but her hand moves up to my shoulder, squeezing gently. “It’s a lot all at once, Gray. It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to be unsure.”

“No, it’s not. If any of the other clans knew that I was struggling?—”

“But they don’t. They don’t know, and they’re not going to. Because I bet you keep it all inside, don’t you?”

I nod.

I’m admitting too much.

For just a brief moment, I’ve let Sutton see who I really am inside, all my fear, not just the façade I present to the world.For a moment, Sutton has been talking to the real me, and that scares the hell out of me.

“You need to work on that, Gray,” Sutton scolds, and I bark out a bitter laugh.

“Not exactly like I can go to therapy.”

“Didn’t that mobster on television go to therapy?”

I blink at her, and then I realize that she’s joking, and I laugh, loud and open.

“I don’t think real life works like television, Sutton.”

She smiles brightly. “Well, you’re doing great. Just trust me on that.”

I grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

She giggles, sipping her cosmopolitan, and I’m struck by her beauty all over again.

I remember what she looks like first thing in the morning, her hair mussed, her eyes puffy. She’s beautiful then, too, maybe even more so, and my heart aches just thinking about it.

“Sutton,” I say in a low tone.

She looks up at me with beautiful blue-gray eyes. “Hmm?”

“I’ve missed you.” I don’t know where it comes from, but as soon as I say it, I know it to be true. I know that I’ve missed her somewhere deep in my bones, somewhere so deep in my heart I tried to bury it myself.

“Gray—”

I hold up a hand. “You don’t have to say anything.”

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