Page 30 of Ruthless God

“I was invited to the sale via a phone call. They’re promising rare merchandise.”

Brooks Henderson makes a sound in the back of his throat. “You’re a dick, Irons! These are women’s lives, and you act like they’re nothing.”

“Did I say that?” I wait a beat. “Someone has to buy them, Henderson. Better me than a monster with malevolent intentions.”

“Funny. I don’t see a difference.”

I lift a shoulder in a small shrug, unbothered. His opinion of me is irrelevant—it changes nothing. The only thing that matters is doing what needs to be done.

That’s why I’m here.

If I had a choice? I’d be back home in London, far from all of this. But choices don’t always belong to us, do they?

Santos asks, “What is your plan?”

I turn to him. “What do you know of your wife’s friend?”

“Which one? And how is this relevant?”

“Cecely Blight.”

His gaze narrows. “She’s a lovely girl. Now why in the hell do you want to know?”

“Believe it or not, but Cecely is the very woman who has brought us all here today.”

Santos shakes his head. “No. It can’t be possible.”

“Oh, but it is. Blanc spends a lot of time in Dallas, yes? Ever stop to wonder why?” I pause. “It’s because his mistress lives here. Cecely’s mother.”

Santos mutters a string of curses under his breath, his frustration barely contained. I don’t have to guess what’srunning through his mind. He’s wondering how in the hell is he going to explain this to his wife? But that’s not my problem.

My problem is keeping this woman alive long enough to find out who’s coming for the Brotherhood.

And if I fail?

We’re all screwed.

I say, “My plan is to ensure that she’s safe. I’ll be reaching out to her tonight.”

Henderson asks, “Does she know who her father is?”

Santos says, “I don’t think she knows. She’s never mentioned him, and neither has Lili.”

I say, “That’s for Blanc to tell. Not us. Understand?”

I, of course, already know the answer to Henderson’s question and why Blanc hasn’t reached out to her. Cecely has never met her father, even though he’s found ways to see her mother all these years. Not having a father figure in her life has given her daddy issues and a tendency to push boundaries.

To put it bluntly, she’s going to be a fucking handful.

Santos says, “I’d like to be there when you tell her. I’ll bring my wife, too. It might help soften the blow.”

I dip my head. “Be there at seven. I’ll keep you informed.”

I turn to leave when Moretti asks, “How’s Blanc?”

“Alive. For now. He’ll be reaching out when he and his family arrive to their home in Dallas.”

Henderson shakes his head. “I hope he picked Dallas because we’re here.”

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