Page 15 of Prodigal Son

“Um…”

Fox was staring at him with something like open shock, whatever that meant.

“My assistant,” Eden said, offhand, like that actuallyexplainedanything.

“And driver,” Axelle with two Es and two Ls added, hint of a true smile breaking through.

“Yes, and driver. I trust her,” Eden said, with a look that said they would be wise to do so too.

“Okay,” Albie said slowly. “Brilliant. Right. So.” He turned to his father. “Who’s trying to kill you?”

Fox snorted.

“Stupid question, yeah,” Albie conceded. “Who’s trying to kill youthis time?”

“The same people who tried to kill me the first time,” Devin said, smiling proudly – the crazy fuck.

“Long story short,” Fox said, “Dad’s an assassin raised and trained by some shady company and now they’re trying to kill him.”

“Or capture him,” Eden said. “No one’sthatbad of a sniper.”

Albie took a deep breath. He took several. Waited for the disbelief to hit… “Okay,” he said. “That…actually sounds real. Considering Dad.”

Fox shrugged. “Of course.”

Devin said, “You brats have no respect.”

“No shit,” Albie said. “Now, this has all been fascinating.” He gestured to the group at large. “But I’ve got a business to run. So.” He made a shooing motion toward the door.

Someone on the other side of it knocked.

“Great. Here they are to kill us. Thanks, Dad.”

The knock repeated: three quick raps, then two slow.

“That’s Mum,” Eden said, getting to her feet and going to answer it. “I called her from the car. It’s not safe for her to stay at our office right now.”

Albie looked at his brother.

Fox held out his hands and said, “I don’t know anymore.”

The woman that Eden let into the shop shared her facial features, weathered elegantly by time and stress, her hair silver and swept back in a flawless French twist. She wore a fitted gray suit of a severe cut that accentuated her femininity rather than contrasting it; like he daughter, she wore clothes well.

She touched Eden’s shoulder, briefly, on her way inside, letting her hand fall away as Eden relocked the door. It wasn’t a warm touch, to Albie’s eye, nor a lingering one.

The woman surveyed the workshop with a critical glance and sighed quietly as she folded her hands together in front of her. “Eden. Whathaveyou gotten us mixed up in now?”

“You’re welcome to not be involved at all,” Albie said, bristling. He wasn’t a proud man by nature – thanks, Dad – but he was very proud of his shop. The way Eden’s mother regarded it put his back up. “In fact, I’d prefer it.”

Her gaze swept to him with impressive disinterest. “I suppose you’ll be one of the brothers, then.”

“Mum,” Eden chided. Respectfully, somehow.

“Half-brother,” Albie corrected. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“On the contrary.” She sniffed, dismissive, and turned her head away, gaze seeking out Devin this time. “If my daughter and my company are in jeopardy, then who you are is definitely my business. This is exactly why I didn’t want you to take this job, Eden,” she continued. She looked at Devin like she wanted to turn him to stone. “This family is a lost cause.”

Devin flashed her his most charming smile. “Eden, love, I’m truly sorry you had to be raised by this harpy.”

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