Page 93 of Four Fiances & I

“I need to discuss something with you that came to light this morning,” McIntire says, looking from Christian to me. “Morning Jasmine, I hope you had a pleasant day yesterday.”

“I did thank you,” I reply, forcing a smile. I look at Christian and find him watching me. “I’ll leave you to it.” I turn to leave, But Christian grabs my hand to stop me.

“We will head to my office, stay here and rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Placing a kiss on my head, he walks out, followed by McIntire, and I feel the rejection sink into my gut. I want to run to my room and cry, but instead, I sit on the sofa, curl up under my blanket and try to ignore the dread that fills my stomach with rocks.

* * *

Christian

Shit, I fucked up. I wasn’t able to explain that I was waiting for McIntire. Because I’m exhausted, I didn’t word it well, and now I’ve hurt her. I try to think of any time I’ve turned her down, but I don’t think I ever have. Not in the way I did today. I make a mental note to make it up to her as soon as I find out why McIntire is here.

We walk to my office in silence, and I let him go in first before closing the door. Walking into the room, I round my desk and sit in my chair as he sits in front of me. It's not the first time he has been here. Ever since Geralt Young's murder, McIntire has been working closely with the family, and as I know them well, I have been assisting when needed.

I have spent many years avoiding all dealings with the man before me. He is dangerous, and upsetting him would be a mistake, as I have seen proven on many occasions. But he is also fair, and if you show him respect, then you will receive his respect in return.

“What's going on?” I ask, sitting back in my chair and trying to seem as relaxed as possible.

“I’ve heard that there are still people trying to take you down, and I thought you should know that they have contacted Nicholson and asked for his input.”

“Fuck,” I curse, sitting forward. That is the last thing I expected to hear. “What do you know?” McIntire runs his fingers through his short grey hair and sighs.

“He’s been approached and asked if he would consider rising against you. They didn’t give him details other than you are overstepping your mark.”

When I think things can't get any worse, the hits just keep on coming.

“How do you know this?”

“He called me this morning wanting to know if I was working with you and if I thought you were a threat to him. I told him the truth, that we have a mutual interest in the Youngs, which has been brought around by the morons he hired.”

“The bastard is the reason Geralt was killed,” I point out, but McIntire shakes his head.

“That whole operation was put together by his brother, who has been missing since. No one has seen hide nor hair of him. When I approached the topic, he told me that he had not sanctioned the retrieval of the drugs and had dealt with the person who had.”

“He could be lying, knowing you would have no choice but to go after him if he admitted it,” I point out, and McIntire shrugs.

“We both know that, and all I can do is take his word for the time being until I have proof saying otherwise. Why do you think I haven’t dealt with him since it occurred.” It makes sense that McIntire should have killed whoever was responsible for Young’s death, as Young was under his protection, but without any hard proof, it’s been difficult to pinpoint who set the wheels in motion with the raid or the murder of Young and kidnapping of Chelsea Hughes.

“So, what do you suggest I do?” I ask, leaning on my desk. McIntire leans back in his chair again and sighs.

“I don’t think there is much else you can do for the time being,” he answers. “Have you upped security?” I nod in confirmation. “Good, keep it in place and ensure the others are aware of the latest developments so they know to keep an eye out for any danger. Nicholson has no interest in getting involved at the moment, and that could go in your favour, as they may see that it's best to leave you be.”

I slump back in my chair and let out a deep sigh.

“The wedding is in less than a week; we are already walking on eggshells, waiting for the bomb to drop after everything that happened at the stag party. I’ve had to hire extra security as our numbers aren’t enough to ensure Jasmine always has at least two guards with her. I nearly had a heart attack last night worrying about her at that bloody hen party. I wanted to get her to cancel it, but she refused, and she was right when she said she deserved it.” I rub at my face, feeling defeated once again.

“Don’t cancel the wedding; you all deserve this marriage and some happiness. I will do my best to deal with things on the outside whilst you are all dealing with the wedding stuff.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I sigh, but McIntire shakes his head.

“I have become quite fond of young Jasmine, and I think she has dealt with enough. I also dread to think how Abigail would react if I let anything happen to her.”

I smile, knowing how close Abbie and Jasmine are.

“I keep telling the others that we need to watch those young women as they will spill our blood if anything else were to happen to their friend.” I try to joke about it, but the fear of anything happening to Jasmine terrifies me and haunts me every minute of the day. He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a sigh. “Abigail Young hates me enough and is determined to make my life hell. If I let anything happen to her friend, I might as well dig my own grave.” He looks lost in thought for a moment before snapping out of it.

“Well, I’ve come here to do as I wanted. I will leave you in peace if you have just gotten home.” McIntire stands from his chair, and I stand and walk around to the other side of the desk.

“Thank you for giving me the heads up; I appreciate it,” I say, holding out my hand. McIntire shakes it and gives me half a smile.

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