Page 17 of Room Seven

So this is what it feels like to be on the opposite side of Harlon’s good graces.

I know I am playing with fire here and my heart is entering heart attack levels, but I want to see how far I can push my unmovable cousin.

I slap a hand down on the papers before he can shoo me along like I am some pesky sibling. Twenty-three years of that with my brothers is all I can take.

Damn it, why can’t something be easy for once? “Don’t fuck with me, Constantine. I’m not some underling you can use scare tactics on.”

Dark eyesfinallylift off a stack of papers neatly tucked under one another to bore into mine. But it’s not the wrath of a dark lord I see. Hard, cold and calculating, sure. There is never a moment my cousin isn’t working all angles and three steps ahead of the other person. But he looks more preoccupied and thoughtful than flaming mad.

I return his unmoving gaze and double down my stance. Most people would flinch under the heavy gaze of a man of Genesis. But I learned at the knee of several criminal masterminds that showing weakness in any form is a sure death sentence. To dreamsandlives.

Molten steel molds over my shoulders to lock my body into a firm stance. The hard, icy gaze I return is filled with the same stubbornness that runs in his veins.

“Looks like we have a bit of a standoff, huh? I want this. Sapphire backs me up and so do some runners. Even your sister, Belle. I can do this. Give me a shot. That’s all I want.”

He leans back in his chair and considers me a moment. “Why?” And for a second, he genuinely looks perplexed by the idea someone would want this job.

I want to say because my life has no meaning without them. But no one wants to hear how much pain I live in every single day. So I lie. “I’m not cut out for being a boutique owner or a nail tech. I don’t own a dress and I can’t grab a gun with long, fake nails. I mean, look at me. Leather pants, knee-high boots and the stink of our family history clinging to me like cheap hooker perfume. What else can I do but work here? And don’t you dare tell me I can get married. I will drop you where you sit, cousin.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Do I need to break out the crayons and construction paper?”

That earns me a grunt, but not much else.

“It’s practically a birthright.”

His angular jaw hardens, and his expression turns cold as stone. But he speaks his next words gently. “Walk away, Aster. You have a whole life ahead of you. Don’t dig in deeper.” For a second, the plea for me tosee the lighthas me pushing away from his desk.

He falls silent a moment and pushes to his feet. Tailored gray material of his pristine suit hugs his strong, muscular frame.

I match his tone and lock eyes the second he takes his gaze off the floor. Ghosts of the past linger in the depths of his dark eyes.

He carries the weight of the past and his current problems well. I can at least help with one of his issues. “Like you did, cousin? When your dad went to prison, you stepped up. You don’t have to carry the weight of this family alone. You have me. Belle, Sapphire. The Savages.”

A cloud of worry and regret lingers over him, like the cloud of cigar smoke billowing up from a nearby tray.

Trouble is never far behind for a man in his position. He comes to stand in front of me, and his height has me tilting my head up. The man is dangerous to everyone except those he loves. I’m thankful to be among those he doesn’t want to see dead.

It’s growing late in the afternoon. Instead of the place quieting down and emptying out, it’s only growing busier by the minute. Club members come and go at all hours, but the majority don’t show until sundown. It’s part of the whole underworld mystique. Crime by night seems to be their thing and mine.

A bank of monitors along the far wall shows several members arriving in the discrete underground parking for late night meetings and deals. All Harlon has to do is give his kiss of approval and I could be on the third level–AKA the dark floor–sealing my place in my family’s business.

Harlon’s hands come to rest on my shoulders. “I gave you the greeter job because it kept you out of trouble and we could all watch over you. I made your father a promise. Don’t push your luck and have your father yank your chain so short you can’t walk outside your house again.”

“What happened with Mirsha, Luther and Viper left him burned. You’re lucky he hasn’t clipped your wings entirely.”

Harlon doesn’t mean to hurt me, but it doesn’t change the outcome of his words slicing into me.

“What promise was that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.”

Ominous warning much? Cold ice skitters up my spine. This man. If I didn’t lovesomemembers of my family, I could kill them all some days. Okay, not really, but damn, I wish wearing my emotions and a soft heart were not my weaknesses.

He tips my chin up, and it’s really hard to keep defeat from stealing over my expression.

I step away from him and take a second to gather my words. “Do I look like someone who will stay on a chain forever, Harlon?” My voice turns colder with every syllable, but nothing seems to stir him from the deadpan stare.

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