Accidental Shield (Marriage Mistake #6)(104)

Ray doesn’t flinch, even as Cornaro snarls, leering down.

“You were never in charge,” Ray says. “Never.”

“Really, now? Is that why I sacrificed a dozen men from my crew protecting your run-down offices? Do you even realize how fast the Black Dragons would’ve garroted your throat and watched you bleed out in your own office with impunity if I hadn’t stepped in to save your ingrate skin?” His lip peels back. “And you still had the nerve to run your mouth, going on and on about those stupid fucking ships.”

“I wanted out, shithead,” Ray growls. “Just wanted to walk away.”

“Of course. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Cornaro says. “Stanley was making noise about getting out again, too, before his end.”

“I wish he’d done it. Turned you in. You’d have seen who was in control then, Captain Hook.” Ray glares, but it’s too much.

He starts coughing into his hand, and when he sinks back, there’s a smear of blood in his palm.

“Are you quite done? How do you think your father died, little man?” Cornaro turns his back, blowing a long trail of smoke to the floor.

My chest nearly convulses.

A painful memory strikes.

“A heart attack.” I pinch my lips together, wishing I hadn’t said that out loud.

Cornaro laughs. “Very good, Ms. Gerard. A massive coronary, at his desk, in his posh office at King Heron Fishing. Roughly thirty seconds after he’d had a nip off the bottle of scotch I’d personally delivered to him, and a letter thanking him for his service, offering him a way out. He took it.”

“Liar!” I snap. “If he’d been poisoned...the autopsy would’ve shown it.”

He walks over leisurely, then grinds out his cigar in the ashtray on the glass table in front of the sofa. “Hardly, my sweet summer child. Coroners are like anybody else. A little grease for the wheels, and they’ll say anything.”

I have a sick sense he’s telling the truth. It’s hard holding back the tears.

“It’s tragic, really. This all would’ve been so easy if worm boy hadn’t thought he was smarter than a man whose pedigree goes back to Malta and Lepanto.” He pauses, turns, his eyes these thin, snake-like slits. “And more recently, as some might say, pirates. My ancestors filled their coffers with doubloons, jewels, and exotic riches by the pound, sourced from every continent.”

He’s sick. Delusions of grandeur on steroids. Just being in this psycho’s presence makes my skin crawl.

“Rayman should understand better than anyone. I’m merely following in their footsteps. I offered your family friendship and fortune until you decided to screw it up. Incredibly foolish, especially when you know my policy on traitors.”

He kicks the table, making the ashtray bounce across the glass, and then shouts at one of the men standing near the door. “Any word yet, Hale?”

“No, sir. But she should be finishing her dinner shortly. She’s taking her sweet time with a glass of port, apparently,” the goon in the corner says.

Her? My heart starts jackhammering again.

Cornaro settles his gaze on me, his lip curled. “We’re just waiting for one more to join us all the way from Kauai. Even sent my own chopper to pick her up.”

“Mother?” I can’t stop the shiver that takes me over. “Why?”

“Why don’t you tell her, Rayman?” Cornaro eyes my brother slowly, folding his arms. When he doesn’t speak, he sighs. “Fine, then. Since your lips are sealed, it’s only fair Ms. Gerard should know...traitors like your idiot brother aren’t just killed. They’re lessons. In over thirty years of this game, I’ve only had two people stupid enough to double cross me. One was the man married to the woman your boyfriend couldn’t save. The other, well, he’s sitting right next to you, and this time, I will kill his entire family.”

I’m numb.

Disembodied.

Too shocked to even scream at how coldly he rattles off our fate like some kind of demented judge.

“However, first, we’re going to have a little heart-to-heart talk with your oh-so-understanding beau.” He actually smiles. I’m not even surprised half his teeth are gold.

“No! Leave him alone, he’s not even family. I...I dragged him into this.”

He walks toward me. “I told you, wench, he screwed up a very important act of discipline in Bali. If Mr. Calum hadn’t come crashing in with his merry men that day, maybe Rayman wouldn’t have decided to play at a man’s game of subterfuge. I spent years hoping he’d died, or at least wound up paralyzed. He should have, after his little moment with the drill, but...I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Oh, God. I’m almost panting, my breath rising and falling in shallow ripples.

“I never felt so lucky the day I learned none other than Flint Calum saved you from the sharks. Now, I not only get King Heron, I get to settle old scores.” He stops in front of me and extends a hand. “And perhaps I get you. You’re delightful enough to make me want to re-think my policy on total extermination for turncoats’ families.”

His hand almost touches my hair before I flinch.

I can’t!

Without thinking, I whirl, grab his hand, and sink my teeth into the fleshy side of it.