Page 137 of Revenge
“If you treat me like your equal, you will be surprised by what you can get from me. So, tell me.”
“Just… prepare a bag for you and the kids in case you have to leave in a hurry.”
“Okay. Be careful and come home to us.”
“Alright.”
“I’m serious. I want you home tonight,” she says sternly.
“I will. I have to go. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I end the call.
There are men everywhere when I pull up at Eros. I put the car in park, turn the engine off, and get my gun from the secret compartment. Whatever is happening, it doesn’t look good from here. I leave my SUV and head for the entrance of Eros. The men part as I reach them. One of them opens the door. There are even more men inside Eros. By my count, almost three dozen men stand around. Angus, Ray, Beiste, and Oliver are by the bar. I walk over to them.
“What’s going on?” I ask, approaching.
“Let’s go to your office,” Oliver says. Angus, Ray, and Beiste follow us. We walk in silence.
“Talk,” I order, opening my office door.
“Our father has put out an order for the men to choose a side,” Oliver says.
“When?”
“An hour ago. He’s taking inventory.”
My father has lost his fucking mind. My grandfather must be turning in his grave. My father has openly divided the clan for everyone to see and damn the consequences. I sit down, and everyone follows suit. Whatever I say will set the tone for what comes next. If there’s one thing I have over my father, he thinks for the moment while I think of the future. I always think a couple of moves ahead.
“We’ve been preparing for this possibility. If he wants to take inventory, let him. Anyone who chooses his side is welcome to do so. We won’t hold anyone against their will. However, they have to be ready to fight their brothers.”
“That’s what we’ve been discussing,” Oliver says.
“Our concern is knowing who is here by choice and who is here as a spy,” Ray says.
“Aye,” Angus agrees.
“Call for an all-out gathering. Angus and Beiste, check the armory. Verify we have everything we need.”
“Aye,” Beiste says.
“Ray, I need you to move the banker and the vault. We can’t risk my father attacking our currency.”
“Got it.”
“Give me the room. Oliver, stay.” The rest leave, and I take a deep breath.
“I never imagined our father would do something like this,” Oliver mutters once we’re alone.
“This isn’t the first time,” I respond sadly.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you remember Operation Dumfries?”
“A little. Why?”
I open my drawer, take out a bottle of scotch and two glasses, and pour us each a drink. Oliver is looking at me with deep furrows between his eyes. I hand him a glass before taking a seat.
