Page 106 of Ruthless Redemption

“Not at all.”

He follows with a huffed breath. “In that case, I’m in.”

We walk through the laundry and into the backyard. Remy sits perched near the top of the deck staircase, his injured leg outstretched, the hole in his pants gaping while Salvo stands close to the bottom.

They eye us as we approach, their pinched expressions more focused on Bishop than me.

“I’m going to make one thing emphatically clear.” I stop before them, Bishop doing the same at my side. “I’ll help but only while Layla’s happiness is at the forefront of everyone’s thoughts. Her life won’t be complicated by this. You will consider everything you’ve put her through before you make the slightest decision, and if your assessment concludes that your intentions will give her even the tiniest discomfort or heartache, you will stop whatever the fuck you were planning and thank the heavens that she’s allowed you to live long enough to make any plans at all.”

Salvatore stands taller.

“You will treat her with respect,” I continue, “and acknowledge that she is your ticket out of this. Not me. Your future is in her hands. Not mine. Is that understood?”

Remy jerks his chin. Salvo inclines his head. Their expressions remain pensive.

“Is it understood?” I repeat, my tone lethal.

Salvatore raises his hands in surrender. “Yeah, it’s understood.”

“Loud and clear,” Remy adds.

“Good. Because we already have plans for Emmanuel, and those aren’t going to change. So get used to the idea of starting over.”

“Starting over? Meaning we’ll lose access to the family trust?”

“He’s going to die. That’s nonnegotiable.”

Salvo scrubs a hand over his face, muttering something unintelligible as he breaks eye contact.

They want him alive. Or they’re not willing to risk their money for their freedom. Either way, the hesitancy to kill the man enslaving them doesn’t sit well with me.

“Layla must mean a lot to you.” Remy struggles to his feet, the skin on his left cheek already turning purple as he stares at me. “How long have you two been together?”

“Five seconds.”

I ignore Bishop’s snappy retort and incline my head. “She means everything. The first of those five seconds was enough to determine she’d be mine till the day I die.”

“But what about D.C.? She didn’t know who you—”

“Bringing up D.C., where you royally screwed me over with her, isn’t the best move. What you need to concentrate on is your complete and utter respect for her moving forward.”

“What about Abri?” Salvo asks. “Where does she stand in all this?”

“We’ll help her, too, as long as she agrees to the terms.”

Remy hangs his head and nods. “I don’t think we should tell her. Like we said before, she changed after she was sent away. She won’t approve of an attack on our father.”

“Then she gets kept in the dark.” Bishop claps me on the shoulder. “But what I’m concerned about, which my man here seems to be ignoring, is that this could all be a setup. Who’s to say you two aren’t buying time until Emmanuel gets here?”

Remy looks up with hard eyes. “Call the house. As of this morning when we spoke to Abri, he was still there with his men. He’s barely back on his feet. The fucker can’t walk more than ten yards without hyperventilating.”

“It’s no secret he taps your phones.”

“That’s why we got new ones.” Salvatore reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell. “It’s turned off but feel free to check it. Only Abri has the number. The phones our father knows about are waiting back at a hotel in Charleston.”

Bishop ignores the device. “And you trust Abri not to rat on you? You admitted she’s got secrets. Who’s to say she won’t stick with Emmanuel when this all blows up?”

“There’s nothing to rat on. She doesn’t know where we are or what we set out to achieve. And we haven’t called her within twenty miles of this place.” Salvo’s tone hardens. “She’s not the threat here. What you need to worry about is Dad growing tired of waiting for you to be found. He’ll send more men. And that snitch on the Denver runway will lead them right here.”

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