Page 63 of The Tallest Tower (Underbelly Enchanted)

“That makes you a fuckin idiot.” I surge forward and wrap my palm around his throat, then shoving the pliers between his lips, I latch onto his front tooth and tighten the steel pressing on both sides until I hear acrack.

“You owe a debt; you pay that debt. You are taking money out of my pocket, Jameson, and I’m not a man whose pocket you should reach into.” I squeeze until his tooth explodes and blood bursts from between his lips.

The stench of urine permeates the air, too. But I’ve stomached so much more over the course of my life. “You will pay next week. And if youevertake business advice from Emilio Pastore again, you’ll find yourself buried in these woods where no one will ever find you.”

I yank my pliers from his mouth and whistle between my lips until two guards step into the room and look to me for orders.

“Take him home. Put him to bed.” Then I turn to Micah. “Seems Pastore’s looking for a little visit from us.” I place the pliers back in his palm, trading them for my pocket square and wiping another man’s blood from my hands. “Much like the glamorous Ms. Cannon, they poke and poke and poke, vying for our attention. Then they have the audacity to act surprised when we turn up to say hey.”

Finishing up, I ball the fabric in my left hand and use my right to take my phone from my pocket. I check the screen, almost hoping for a call from Christabelle, though I know it’s impossible. I never gave the woman her phone back, and even if I had, she doesn’t have my number.

I’ve been gone from the house for a matter of hours. Three, four at the most. Hardly a long time. But my stomach yearns to see her name on my screen. My heart…Well, fuck that shit.

My heart never did me any favors before.

“We’re gonna have to set up another meet with Cordoza,” I murmur, my men working in silence to untie Clarke from the chair and carry him out the door. “And another with Emilio.”

“Cordoza said to leave Pastore alone,” Micah reminds me seriously. “Shit was settled, Lix.”

“Clearly fuckin not.” I hit dial on my phone and ignore Jameson’sretching cries echoing through the woods outside. “He took the first shot. He wanted our attention. Now he has it.”

“Mr. Malone?”

“Mary.” I stalk outside and look up at the thick tree canopy that makes it impossible for sunlight to hit the ground all the way out here. “What’s she doing?”

“She took a walk in the gardens, sir. Then she had breakfast in the formal dining room.”

“Formal?” I study the thick leaves overhead. The way they dance and sway in the soft breeze. Their bright greens, varying in shade.

Though I know that the color of my eyes, the same my brothers share, obviously came down through the Malone side of my DNA, I’ve always looked up at the trees out here and wondered if my mother’s were green, too.

What did I get from her?

What parts of mearen’tMalone?

“She wanted the big dining table? Why?”

“I’m not sure, sir. But you said to make her comfortable.”

“And you did as I asked.” I close my eyes and bring my head back down. “Yeah. You did the right thing. Did she get dressed?”

“Yes. She selected jeans and sneakers, sir.”

“And her shirt?” My pulse jumps in my throat, my heart…fuckkkk, it aches. “Did she change it?”

“No, sir. She is still wearing the same shirt she wore when you left. She discovered the swimwear, also.”

“Did she go for a swim?”

“Not yet. But she was thankful for what you provided. She demanded I join her for a walk in the garden, sir.”

“She did?” Surprise brings my eyes open, my focus on my men as they load a still-crying Jameson into the back of a black SUV. “A walk is good for her, right? She wasn’t dizzy?”

“No, sir.” The certainty in her tone piques my interest. “In fact, she was quite forceful. She was, uh…” Mary stops and audibly swallows. “She asked questions about your mother, sir. She became aware of my employ within the Malone home for many decades, which prompted her to question me in regards to your mother.”

I look over my shoulder as Micah strolls out of the bunker and stops a few feet from where I stand. He lifts his chin.

No words. No instructions. Just the one nudge of his head, then he starts forward as our driver opens the car door and waits. So I follow and slide in beside him.

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