Lucas studied me with a sigh.
“Come,” he murmured, guiding me out of the room by my elbow.
I barely absorbed my surroundings as we walked upstairs, my head swimming with what I had just seen.
He just...murdered a man for touching me?
I allowed him to guide me to a velvet chaise lounge where he handed me a glass full of whiskey and, surprisingly, a bar of chocolate.
“For the shock.”
I nodded and gulped down the whiskey, wincing as it burned my throat. I didn’t care. I rested the glass on the floor as I peeled the wrapper from the bar of chocolate, eating it without a second thought.
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea he would assume you—fuck.”
Lucas ran his hand through his hair as he sat back in front of me in the armchair, gazing at me thoughtfully.
Did he look...worried?
“So, who are you?” I finally asked as the whiskey begin to numb me.
“I told you-”
“Lucas.” I snapped as he lifted his eyes to mine. “I’m not naive. I’m a gangster’s daughter, remember?”
He nodded then as he continued to stare at me, as though he was contemplating his next words carefully. My dad had a chequered history, to say the least, and although I didn’t know all of it, I knew enough to know I didn’t want to know.
FLASHBACK
I stopped halfway down the stairs as I heard my brother’s voice rise.
“Do you, though? Do you know it all? Did you know the extent to which he was involved?”
“Caleb. I haven’t ever asked. Nor should you.” My mother snapped back as I frowned. Knew what? Ask what?
“He killed people, Mom. People died under his hand and his instruction. He wasn’t a street rat.”
There was a silence then as I heard Zane bounding down the stairs behind me, causing Caleb to walk out of the kitchen, sending a glare in my direction.l
“Did you hear that?” He demanded as my dad walked through the front door, grinning at us.
“Hear what?” I whispered as my eyes fell on my dad.
“I’m leaving,” Caleb grunted as my mom followed him outside, past my dad wordlessly.
“What did I miss?” He chuckled as I shook my head.
“I don’t know, Daddy.” I lied.
PRESENT TIME
“I have another business, aside from the office.”
“Trafficking?” I whispered, thinking back to the girls downstairs. He frowned at me as though I had insulted his mother.
“What?No. My girls are high-class escorts,” he muttered. “I just look after them.”
“And their money,” I spat as he narrowed his eyes at me.
