“I’ll try to get in touch with her father first.”
Politicians are a dime a dozen because their terms are short and fleeting. And then there are families like the Worthingtons who are career politicians with staying power. Serena’s great-grandfather and grandfather were congressmen. Her father started out as one for the state of New York, then became a senator, always with his eye on the White House. If things go the way everyone predicts, Chester Worthington will be the next POTUS.
Con rubs the scruff covering his jaw, his expression as serious as I’ve ever seen it.
“Aleksander isn’t going to stop coming for her. The fact that he traveled here and tracked her down at the bar worries the hell out of me.”
“He could’ve taken us out but didn’t. I don’t trust the bastard, but I think his offer of a truce may be real,” Hen says.
It causes me actual pain to agree with him, so I don’t say a fucking word.
Con is somber when he says, “He’s going to tell her, and when he does, we’ll lose her.”
The fuck we will because I won’t let that happen. I will chase after her to the ends of the earth if she tries to leave us.
“Not if I kill him first.”
Con drops his head to his folded arms and groans. “You can’t. She told me last night not to go after him.”
Before I can lose my shit for the umpteenth time, the elevator sounds its arrival, and I’m up and moving, ready to throttle Aoife for telling Con that and for leaving us stuck here. Then I’m going to fuck her senseless while I apologize for being an ass.
But it’s not Aoife who walks off the elevator.
Dropping a duffel bag to the floor, Keane uses his foot to slide it my way.
“Good thing I brought clothes,” he says when he notices Hen in only a pair of boxer briefs since Aoife ran off with his trousers.
“Where is she?” I demand to know.
“Gone.”
Keane winces when Hen, Con, and I shout various versions of “What do you mean she’s gone?”
Tired of all this bullshit, I grab Keane by his neck and slam him up against the wall next to the fireplace mantel. I don’t give a crap that he’s the new head of the Rossi syndicate, and I don’t care that Andie is related to Aoife.
“Where. Is. She?”
Keane and I have similar builds, but I’m taller, which thrills me to no end because it means I get to look down on him.
His hazel eyes burn hellfire, and I’m disappointed he doesn’t fight back.
“I’d suggest you back the fuck up.”
Not happening. Keane Agosti doesn’t scare me. His Grim Reaper, Jax, doesn’t either, nor does Liam Connelly or Rafael Ortiz. Their tiny slice of power is nothing compared to the global reach of the Society.
“Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, only that Andie said to tell you that your girl has gone back to Darlington. Honestly, the sooner you assholes are out of here, the better. So I’d suggest you get dressed and haul ass to the airport to catch the next flight out.”
Screw that. Our families have their own planes; however, it’ll take a few hours to get one down here. It’s either that or a charter. No way are we flying commercial. Takes too long, and I’d like to avoid the security checks.
I release Keane and pick up the duffel. “We’ll be ready to leave in ten.”
“Good. And a word of advice.”
“Yeah?” I ask, wishing he’d get on with it.
“Trust me when I tell you that the tighter you try to hold onto her, the easier it will be for her to slip right through your fingers.”
CHAPTER 29