Page 1 of Restless Hawke
1
COEN
You have to be ruthless to win—and losing isn’t an option.
Nothing but complete focus will bring victory.
Watch everything like a hawk waiting to swoop in on its prey.
Never blink.
Never react.
Never give away anything your opponent can use.
Never hand them the rope with which to hang you…
Those words echo through my head—sound advice given by a man who certainly knows how to win.
He did it for decades in the courtroom, protecting the Hawkes from any manner of threat—and God knows there have been too many to even count. But when Dad offered Isaac and me those sage words of wisdom when we were just little boys, still learning the ways of the world and what it meant to have the Hawke-blue eyes and name, he never could have anticipated I’d be using them to face down an opponent across a felt poker table rather than a counsel’s table in some New Orleans courtroom.
Expectation meet harsh reality.
The man who almost gave his life for the Hawkes on multiple occasions never wanted this for his sons. That advice was meant to help us get somewhere in life. Somewhere that would bolster the family name and help establish our dominance.
Instead, I’m here after not only failing every single person I care about but also betraying them in the worst way possible.
That acrid taste of it has lingered in my mouth since the moment I placed the bet against Atlas, and it has only gotten worse in the three weeks since fight night and the wedding.
I’ve tried to keep the fact that I’m now the ultimate pariah out of my head while I play.
I’vetriedto follow Dad’s advice and forget everything I did, how badly I wounded them, how exposed everyone is now that I’ve opened the door to a monster…
Play.
Be a rock.
But it feels more like I’m Sisyphus, rolling a boulder of unbearable weight up a steep hill only to have it crashing back down on me—over and over and over and over…
Be ruthless.
There isn’t any other option.
Because at this point, it’s in my hands—the future ofallthe Hawkes.
I’m the one who betrayed their trust.
I’m the one who put myself into this position by ending up in bed with a man like Satriano. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know it was him when I placed my bet. The result is the same.
A very dangerous man has a stranglehold on me—onus—because I made the shittiest decision of my life.
Yet themoneyisn’t even really the issue.
Andthat’swhat made me run from the wedding.
Run from New Orleans.
Run from the Hawkes.
