Page 37 of Defy

She shrugs like my reprimand means nothing. “Just don’t want her to get hurt.” She waves a hand toward Camila. “Besides, she knows her place.”

A retort rises forcefully but I choke it down. This is what I need. I need my mother believing I’m here to stay. Believing I’m reclaiming my place in this family.

Camila turns her venomous smile toward both women. “Of course I do. It’s under Dominic, where it’s always been.” Turning fully to Libby, she adds, “Or in tonight’s case, on top of him, but you get the picture.”

I try to catch Libby’s eyes. To tell her Camila’s lying and that we didn’t have sex, but then I figure oral sex counts as the same kind of betrayal and I shut my mouth. Libby takes a deep breath and stands, gracefully wearing a beige linen pant suit. She looks breathtaking with her raven hair in waves over her shoulders, her face devoid of makeup tonight as her natural beauty shines through. The halter top plunges low and more than a hint of cleavage is visible. With full lips, she looks like the queen of the fortress, poised, refined, and delicate - but in a way that resembles how a bomb is delicate more so than a flower.

I can’t stop looking at her and trying to catch my breath.

“Imelda, thank you for keeping me company and allowing me this time,” Libby says as she goes to stand. “I still don’t fully understand why I’m a person of interest to you, but I appreciate your kindness and company tonight. I think I’d like to go back to my room now though, if that’s okay?”

I have to hand it to her, Libby is playing her part well. Too well.

It takes me far too long to figure out what’s going on…she’s shutting me out. She believes the charade. She thinks I want Camila. Again. Hell, I played my part so well tonight that for those few minutes, Ididwant Camila.

“Of course,” my mother says like she’s presenting Libby with a gift. At that moment, a guard begins to climb the stairs on the veranda. “In fact, Edmund can escort you up,” she says as she waves him over.

My entire body clenches with tension. “There’s no need.I’llescort her up.”

Libby gives Camila a sweet smile that looks genuine creating nausea that sweeps through me. “No need. I’m sure Edmund can get me there. Enjoy the rest of your night.” It goes unnoticed by either of the other women, but I hear the faint suggestion of a quiver in her voice even as her double entendre pierces my chest.I’m sure Edmund can get me there.She keeps her head high as she walks away, not looking at me once before going back into the house. The linen pants hugging the curve of the toned ass I know so well.

We all watch, mesmerized, as she walks into the house, but before anyone can say anything else, my father and three armed guards come running out onto the veranda.

Show time.

After the interaction with Libby, it’s hard to bring my attention back to the current situation since my fingers are itching to find Edmund and choke him out.

“Imelda, there’s been a fight at the club. Gunshots reported. I can’t get Luis to check in.”

“Where are all the guards we pay so well to protect his life?” my mother says, frustrated as she stands throwing her hands in the air.

I cut my eyes to my father. “You mean the jokers with the ear pieces and all their safeties in theonposition? God forbid those idiots should have to fire a gun.”

My parents give each other a look and my father nods while I drape a lazy arm around Camila’s shoulders, turning to go inside, sick with myself for keeping up the charade and not running at full speed after Libby. Feigning indifference toward my brother’s fate, however, is not an act at this point.

“Dominic, wait.” My mother’s voice halts me in my tracks. “You want to rejoin this family?” She eyes me skeptically.

Time to rock and roll.

A simple nod is all I give.

“Then go get your brother out of trouble. Leave no one alive who was a part of this and donotmake me regret this decision.” She doesn’t know it but she repeats the words my father has already spoken.Do not make me regret this.

I assure you, you will.

“I can’t take a knife to a gunfight, Imelda. Care to give me a proper weapon?” I make sure to keep my words slow, feigning boredom. I have all day. She doesn’t. Even after all this time, she and I both know I’m the best at damage control. They’ve taken back every weapon I was able to get my hands on since I was here. I’m hoping that changes tonight.

She flashes a quick look to my father and then nods her head. Turning to go up the two steps into the house, her dress swishes around her legs in a fan. She walks quickly for someone her age in heels.

I follow her to the weapons room. It’s a small armory that has bank-level vault security. Of course, all the weapons aren’t in here, but I’d wager that at least eighty-five percent are.

Imelda turns on a light and waves her hand around.

“Quickly. Take your pick and be on your way.”

I survey the room looking for one piece in particular. When my eyes land on it, I don’t let them linger.

The pistol I used to kill Adriana is hanging in the same spot it was on the morning I took it down and ended her life. A pistol with custom grips my father had made for me at the age of fourteen, upon becoming a man.

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