Page 73 of Filthy Little Regrets

“Mom and the girls will stay in the city.”

Darius lifts an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Three weeks. Two million?” he asks, gesturing to his family. “They stay in the city. Alone. No visitors.” Mace’s voice is hard enough to cut glass.

I’m so confused. Is he paying to get them out of the house?

Scowl deepening, Darius looks at his daughters and wife, estimating their worth. Should he fight for them? His eyes hold Elaine’s the longest. The coldness in his eyes sends a shudder down my spine.

“Get them out of my sight,” he spits before storming out of the room.

Mace waits a full thirty seconds before turning to his sisters. “You should go pack.”

They scramble out of their chairs.

“Bye, Cassia,” Adalie murmurs, ducking her head to avoid eye contact.

She and Melody leave. Elaine’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears. I don’t think they’ll fall. She reminds me a bit of how Rose used to be. Suffering in silence. Enduring terrible love for the mere chance of having any at all.

Mace crouches at her side. “Mom.” The desperation in his tone is so thick.

She pats his shoulder. “It’s okay, honey. I’ll go.”

The acquiescence isn’t surprising to me. Darius was so angry. She should steer clear, but Mace drops his head, releasing a shaky breath, like he anticipated her refusal. There’s so much painful history here that I don’t understand. Now isn’t the time to ask. Elaine smiles down at herson, regret lining her features, and her eyes slowly shift to meet mine.

“You’ll take care of my son?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. The lie burns on the back of my tongue and guilt twinges inside my rib cage. I shove it aside, clinging to the resolve hardening in my stomach. The sympathy churning in my gut won’t change what needs to be done.

Mace’s fucked-up family aside, I still have to find evidence tying him to the mafia.

twenty-one

MACE

We see Mom and my sisters off. They have suitcases full of clothes. The penthouse I’m sending them to, the one Dad has no awareness of, should have everything they need, and if not, they can order it.

Their departure is anticlimactic. Thank fuck. Dad is drowning in a bottle in the den. Alone in his kingdom. The thing he never understood is, power means nothing if you don’t have people to share it with.

Elliot’s taillights disappear down the long driveway. I didn’t trust Dad’s personal chauffeur to keep their location a secret. One call from Dad might have them right back where I don’t want them. In the city, they’ll be safe. For now. Mom agreed to go, and I’ve never been more surprised or relieved.

Cassia turns to face me, gaze inquisitive.

“Sorry that was terrible,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Is it always like that?”

“Only when he’s mad,” I admit.

“So, often?”

I look away. “Welcome to the family.” Cassia deserves better than this.

“The holidays are going to be great,” she drawls.

The edges of my mouth twitch. “We’re not invited.”

My gaze jumps to meet hers. There were two ways the conversation between us could have gone. She could have pried into the trauma that was blatantly on display, forcing a discussion I’m not ready to have, or this, a continuation of where we left off. I braced for the former and hoped for the latter.

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