Page 43 of Gambit
“Then, yeah, Vince.”
“So, it didn’t go well.”
“Understatement.”
“He clearly believes you, though.”
“Kind of hard to deny me.” He gestures to his face.
“Well, no shit there.”
“Elizabeth,” Dad says, coming down the stairs and striding into his office dressed as usual in his designer black suit. He ignores Felix completely. We trail in behind him like two lostsheep. My nerve has suddenly run away, and I’m a bit lost for words.
Dad’s eyes cut to me as he sits down behind his desk, then to Felix, and no words are needed to communicate his scepticism.
“Sit,” he commands, nodding towards the chairs in front of his desk. His voice doesn’t rise above a low rumble, but it fills the room, wraps around us like a vice.
I move forward and take the seat on the left. Felix settles beside me, his posture rigid, but he doesn’t shy away from the challenge in Dad’s stare.
“Dad, this charade has gone on long enough. It’s time you accepted Felix as your son.” I let those words hang in the air, each one loaded with the weight of inevitability.
Dad’s gaze shifts between us, measuring, assessing. He’s silent for a moment, and I know he’s considering the implications of what I’m saying. The Hughes family doesn’t expand its ranks lightly. No family does.
“Make him a Hughes,” I add, firm, leaving no room for doubt about where I stand. Felix’s right to our name, our blood, our legacy—it’s non-negotiable.
The silence stretches, and I can feel the tension coiling tighter. But I don’t flinch, don’t falter.
Damon leans back, his expression unreadable. I’ve laid down the law, and now we wait to see if he’ll pick it up.
“Do you understand what you’re asking, Eliza?” he says, an edge to his voice. “Felix is an unknown variable. The risks?—“
“Risks we’ve calculated,” I cut in, my words slicing through his objections. “Felix has proved himself to me. His loyalty isn’t in question.” I lean back, giving him space to digest the certainty in my voice.
“And yet he broke into my home, tried to kill you, apparently has been stalking you to know your moves and then attempted a—what even was it?—on Castle. Now, suddenly, you decide you want him as your brother.”
“He is my brother.”
“Family isn’t just blood, Eliza.”
“No, it’s who we stand with when shit hits the fan. Felix has been there, without the name, without any claim. Now imagine what he’ll do as one of us.” I watch his face, searching for that crack in his shield. “Think about it. The empire can only grow stronger with him officially in it. It’s not just about taking down rivals or expanding territory—it’s about sending a message. We’re untouchable because we’re united, and Felix makes us more so.”
Dad’s chair creaks as he leans forward, his fingers steepled under his chin. Sunlight filters in through the window, striping the floor with bars of gold and shadow. The study smells like old books and leather, a scent I’ve come to associate with decisions that can move mountains or bury us under them.
His gaze levels on Felix. The lines around his eyes seem less severe, his jaw less set, but he isn’t convinced. Not yet. “Let’s hear it then, from your own mouth. What do you bring to the table?”
Felix glances at me, and I indicate that he needs to get moving. Dad won’t wait long. Felix clears his throat, and I catch the slight tremble in his hands before he clasps them on his lap.
“I don’t come with grand promises. But what I have is my word, my respect for the Hughes legacy, and skills that gave your daughter the opportunity to take out the woman who killed her mother. My own mother. I traded her life to be a part of this family because it means more to me than the Foster name.”
“You mean Gannon. Why didn’t you decide to go to them? Why me?”
“You’re my father. I want to know you. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”
I let out a hiss as Felix is getting his back up and Dad is about to hit the roof.
“Oh, I understand. More than you know. It all seems a bit convenient.”
“How so?”
