Page 87 of Empire of Lust
CALLUM
Iwish I could say the satisfaction of claiming my woman has calmed me down, but that’s not exactly true. I know she’s mine; no one’s taking her from me.
Certainly not some sleazy piece of shit like Dominic Moroni. His last name is the only reason he’s still breathing. That and the witnesses present at the restaurant.
Still, I’ve been insulted. That kid was supposed to be here to meet my daughter, not to feel up another girl while sitting at the same table as Tatum. Jack had better do a lot of thinking on how to make this up to me. If not, I’ll set the terms myself.
Terms he will not like much.
Our table is empty now, and our servers stand around looking guilty and confused.
“Sorry to have broken things up,” I murmur, but it’s Tatum I’m concerned with now. Scanning the dining room, I find her sitting alone at the bar, nursing a glass of wine. Something about the way she holds herself gives off aDo Not Approachsignal, but I’m her father. That sort of shit doesn’t work on me.
She spots me in the mirror behind the rows of bottles along the wall and cuts me off before I’ve said a word. “That’s who you were going to marry me off to, huh? A real Prince Charming.”
I can’t hold back a sigh. “There was never any real chance of a marriage.”
“Of course. How could I forget? I’m a pawn.”
“You’re being a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t. How could you even give that guy the idea I would marry his son? You didn’t even ask me about it.”
“How many times do I have to explain myself, Tatum? It would never happen. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
“I didn’t like that Jack guy looking me up and down like some prize heifer.”
“I didn’t like it, either.”
“You didn’t stop him, though.” She stares down into her glass, biting her lip. Dressed the way she is, she could go to any club in the city at this very moment and have her choice of any man. I’d have to break their hands for touching her, of course.
Right now, she’s my little girl. Unsure of herself and lost in her feelings.
“It was business,” I remind her, gentler this time—gentler than I normally am. “Emotions can’t get involved with business.”
I catch my mistake when she lifts an eyebrow, but it’s too late. “So, you weren’t emotional back there at the table?” She arches the other eyebrow and folds her arms.
“That’s a different story.”
“Is it, though?”
“What was I supposed to do? I would have stopped him if it was you he was fondling under the table, too. You know I would have. That’s unacceptable.”
When she dips her chin, I tilt it upward with one finger until her green eyes meet mine. “He insulted you, too. If I wasn’t already planning on fucking that Moroni bastard over, I would start making my plans now.”
Her lips twitch. “I should’ve known.”
“Anyway, I haven’t forgotten you aren’t on the market, even if I am waiting for Kristoff to thank me for those suits you bought him.”
It isn’t my imagination. The light leaves her eyes a split second before she pulls free, examining her wine glass and avoiding my gaze again. “I don’t know if you’ll see him anytime soon.”
“Why not?” Something about the way she says that—her flat voice, the sadness running like a river under her words—reminds me I haven’t paid her a lot of attention since she got home. I haven’t asked the important questions, and now uncertainty stirs to life in the back of my mind. “What’s going on with you two? Do I need to have a conversation with him?”
“Not everything can be fixed with a conversation.” She smirks, and there is a deep wisdom and understanding in the way she looks at me. “Not even the kind ofconversationyou would have.”
I’m wondering if I’ve kept her as far from my work as I’ve always imagined.
“What are you trying to say?” And now I’m prepared to close out the night by paying Kristoff a visit to make sure he pays me back in blood. “What happened when you were gone?”