The Empire (Filthy Trilogy 3) - Page 73

“You’re not alone now.”

“Neither are you.”

“You belong here, Harper,” I say, repeating what I once told her. “You belong with me.”

“Yes,” she says, repeating what she once told me. “I belong with you, and you, Eric, belong with me.”

I kiss her, a deep, passionate claiming, and it’s there in our kiss, our need for one another, our fear of losing each other. Our promises not to let that happen. Our promises to hold on forever.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Eric

I wake the next morning before Harper and pull on pajama bottoms before heading downstairs, and making coffee. While it brews, I stand by the window and look out at the city without really seeing it, a cube in my hand, wondering what my mother would think if she knew what I know now. Wondering what she would think about the fact that I can walk away and I am walking away. There are only three ways to do that and protect Harper. Kill Isaac or send him to jail are high on the list, but they leave me with the company and the mob, both of which I don’t want. The other option is to imprison him in his own hell and his own creation.

I walk to the kitchen, refill my cup and start making calls. Interestingly enough, when I contact my father’s attorney, I find Isaac has already talked to him. He’s pushed for the reading of the will, which will take place Wednesday, at rocket speed. And yet, I haven’t even heard from Isaac, but the timeline works for me. It allows me to end this quickly. I make a few more calls, including one to the mob boss, Nicolas Marshall, which is quite lengthy but productive. Once that’s done, I pour a cup of coffee for Harper, doctor it with the peanut butter cup creamer, and head to the bedroom. I find her in her robe, at the window, much like I had been downstairs, but she’s on the phone.

I join her and offer her the cup of coffee. She kisses me and eagerly accepts, sipping the beverage before she says, “When do you get to Europe, mother?” her eyes meeting mine, letting me know she has details to share.

We both sit down on the chair by the window and share the coffee while the conversation continues. Finally, she disconnects and kisses me. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Everything okay?”

“She’s handling your father’s arrangements today and leaving tomorrow. Did you hear the will reading is Wednesday? She and Gigi are calling in remotely. Blake’s team is scrambling their connection so they can’t be found.”

“Isaac pressed for an immediate reading, no doubt to payoff the mob and before anyone could find proof that he doesn’t inherit.”

“Hopefully that means he pays off the mob and quickly.” She tilts her head. “You’re a stockholder. How does that complicate things?”

“It doesn’t. Because I have a plan, remember?”

“Yes. The plan you haven’t told me about. Can I hear now?”

“Why yes, you can, because you’re a part of it and it’s going to play out right before the reading of the will.”

Her eyes go wide. “Tell me.”

“I know you didn’t want to go to Denver, but we need to. After this, though, we don’t ever have to go back if you don’t want to.”

She nods, looking earnest. “I’m listening.”

***

We arrive in Denver Tuesday night and go straight to a hotel. For reasons Harper can’t explain, she doesn’t want to be at her house, but I get it. There are triggers to pain and I’ve spent a lifetime learning how to avoid my triggers. She has the right to her own and they seem to include most of the city. She doesn’t want to hit a favorite restaurant. She wants room service, so we order, then I dial Isaac.

“Were you planning on speaking to me after he died or just ignoring me?” I ask.

“What is there to say?” he replies. “He’s dead. I didn’t want to hear you tell me how damn happy you are about it.”

“I’m happy? Interesting, considering your rush to read the will. We need to meet.”

“Not happening.”

“If you want to inherit, you need to meet me before the reading. Tomorrow morning. Ten AM at the Kingston offices. If you no-show, you won’t like the surprise you’ll get at the reading.” I disconnect. He doesn’t call back.

Harper fills my glass with whiskey. “Drink some for me, too,” she says. “I can’t handle my booze right now.”

I pull her onto the couch beneath me. “I’ll take your mind off tomorrow.”

Tags: Lisa Renee Jones Filthy Trilogy Romance
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