Page 86 of Scandalous Kingpin
Thirty minutes later, I ran into my papà and Aisling in the office of the club I named after my wife, The Angel. They had yet to visit, but it surprised me to see them here today of all days.
“Shouldn’t you two be in Chicago? Or New York?” I raised my brow.
“Your mother wanted to see how you were after your… session,” Papà stated, slightly uncomfortable. “Just in case you needed us.”
A sardonic feeling pulled in my chest. We’d been onslightlybetter but not quite caring terms.
“As you can see, Aisling, I made it out alive.”
Papà’s phone rang and he let out a string of curses, darting a look to his wife who assured him wordlessly that she’d be okay.
“I’ll be right back,” he assured, kissing her on the cheek and then disappearing.
Aisling and I remained quiet. She held her head high but clutched her pearls, betraying her nervousness. She was desperate to start anew but also scared of learning about the dark shit that occurred over the past twenty-seven years of my life.
She continued pulling at her necklace, the tic reminding me of Dr. Freud.
And then I remembered the question. “Aisling?” A glimmer of hope flared in her eyes. “How long might a woman hold a grudge?”
Her delicate brows furrowed.
“Are we talking about your wife’s grudge?” The woman was too perceptive. I nodded. “Have you apologized?”
“Of course,” I answered quickly, then immediately frowned. Didn’t I?
“Then depending on the woman, I’d say a few months. Three, to be safe.” My self-doubt was immediately forgotten, and I straightened up. “Why do you ask?”
Because I’m going to kidnap my wife. Again.
I went to turn around but Aisling sidestepped me, something she saw on my face alarming her.
“Why, Christian?” she demanded to know.
I shrugged. “No reason.”
She shook her head frantically.
“Oh my God. You’re planning on doing it again.” It wasn’t even a question. Damn it, I should have never asked her. I stepped forward, but to her credit, she didn’t cower. “Aren’t you, Christian?”
“I’ll give her a bit more time,” I said slowly. “But you won’t say anything to anyone.”
She sighed tiredly. “I won’t, but I really think you should?—”
“I’ll handle my wife,” I cut her off.
The next time I tried to leave, she didn’t stop me.
Ivy
I glanced out the jet’s window as it landed on the tarmac of a small private airport in Lisbon.
My stomach was in knots as various scenarios played in my mind. I was about to meet my sister, courtesy of Alexei Nikolaev’s coordination with Kingston Ashford. Our last encounter didn’t exactly go peachy, so I could only hope for improvements.
Meanwhile, one feeling superseded all others.Fear.
I was scared that she’d hate me and I’d lose my chance at having a sister. It was ridiculous to fear losing a sister I’d never met, but fear wasn’t supposed to be rational. Plus, there were the rumors of Louisa’s ruthlessness.
“Juliette will be here,” Caelan warned under his breath. “Are you up for it?”
