“Why don’t you ask Isaac,” Isaac says, sliding into the booth in front of us.
My eyes go wide and Eric’s hand slides to my leg, warning me to stay calm, telling me that he’s here, he’s got this. He’s in control. Isaac, on the other hand, doesn’t look in control. His hair is rumpled, dark circles shadowing underneath his eyes, his lips dry and cracked. “Let’s have a real talk, brother.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Eric
I stare across the table at Isaac, really damn tired of his games. I can’t stand the man and he’s not even tolerable as a puzzle I need to solve. That ship sailed almost the day I met him. He’s never been hard to figure out. He’s perpetually a power-hungry egomaniac, which drives his desperation when he wants and needs things. There’s no playing his cards close to his vest, and the less I say, the more he’ll demand and in his demands, he always solves the puzzle, gives too much, far more than he realizes.
“Coffee?” I offer, motioning to the waitress with a pot in her hand and turning over the cup on the saucer in front of him.
The waitress fills his cup. “Can I get you anything else, sir?” she asks.
Isaac waves her off without so much a glance in her direction, and the message is clear: she’s beneath him. He forces everyone he can beneath him. That’s his way. Lift himself up by pushing others down. It’s what he tried to do to me from the day he met me. As if I could come in and claim his empire when I’m not even a full-blooded heir.
“You were right,” Isaac states, sipping his coffee black because of course, cream and sugar wouldn’t be manly. “We have trouble with the mob, but they didn’t leave the note. I left you that note in dad’s room.”
I add some extra cream to my coffee. I might even add more sugar. Fuck Isaac and all his bullshit.
“Did you hear me?” he demands. “I left the note.”
“I didn’t know there was a question.”
“You mean the note where you threatened me again?” Harper demands. “When you used me against him?”
He scowls at her. “I’m not behind the attack on you.”
“Then who was?” Harper demands. “Your father? The mob? Because we all know you were ready to set me up with them.”
He grimaces and eyes me, dismissing her accusations. “Dad knew you’d think it was me. He came here to convince you that it was not. Because the last fucking thing we need right now is to have you coming at us, too.”
I smirk. “Come at you? Why would I do that? We’re family. Right, Isaac?”
“We are family. Which means the mob will eventually come for you and Harper. They will find someone in this family to make our problems with them right. Deal with them now or deal with them later.”
I laugh and sip my coffee. “You won’t make me feel like a target. I’m not. You won’t force me to help. I won’t. You won’t use Harper as leverage. I’ll fucking make you pay for that ten times over.”
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” Isaac hisses, leaning in closer and pokes at the table. “This is the mob. They will come for you.”
“How’d you even get in bed with the mob, Isaac?” Harper demands.
He scowls at her. “I didn’t get involved with the damn mob, Harper. I was dealing with the union.”
“Everyone knows the mob and the unions have been in bed,” I say. “I assume you borrowed money, and then couldn’t pay it back.”
“One of the higher-ups at the union offered us an influx of cash to grow the business. He wanted more jobs. I wanted more money. It was a match made to happen.”
“Isn’t it illegal to get into bed with the union?” she challenges. “Or at least unethical?”
“Fuck your moral compass, Harper,” Isaac snaps. “I was trying to do what was best for the company. We were falling behind, thanks to those recalls.” He eyes the jaguar on my arm. “Our competition is thriving. We are not.”
I think through what I know and make assumptions. “You cut corners. It caused the recalls. The recalls caused financial distress. You borrowed Harper’s trust fund but it wasn’t enough so you borrowed money from the mob.”
“The union,” he bites out, denying nothing I’ve stated.
“Which is the mob,” I remind him. “Once you owe them money, they will find a way to get the money which is why you don’t do it. Good luck to you, brother. You’re going to need it.” I flag the waitress. “Check, please.”
Isaac leans in close. “You’re a part of this. Why do you think dad’s in that bed right now? Why do you think Harper was attacked?”