Page 18 of Vicious Seduction
I started to smile, but it fell short when I thought of Lawrence Wellington as part of the gene pool and Lina pregnant with his baby. I wanted to think he was too damn old to knock up anyone, but plenty of old bastards had proven it was possible. Christ, I had to get her away from him for so many reasons.
“This is personal, is it?” Nana’s tone grew somber.
“It wasn’t supposed to be—not really.” I sat on a step stool with my elbows resting wearily on my knees. “My plan was to learn everything I could about Lawrence Wellington. Insert myself into his life, then pull the rug out from under him. Bankrupt his shipping empire. Ruin his reputation. Aid in criminal charges being filed against him. And the cherry on top was supposed to be stealing his girlfriend, leaving him a shell of his former self.”
“Ahhh, now I see.”
“What do you see? I haven’t told you anything yet.”
“You’ve told me all I need to know,” she shot back defiantly. “You meant to use this girl, but something’s changed. You want to help her, but your ex did a number on you and convinced you that helping a woman will only lead to pain. It’s all there plain as day.”
My lips parted, then snapped shut. Words escaped me.
“You ever been accused of witchcraft?” I asked once my gears started turning again.
“That would be the least of the accusations I’ve faced in my day.”
“Well, you may not be totally wrong, but it doesn’t change the fact that the girl isn’t my problem.”
Nana smacked my arm with a strength she shouldn’t be capable of. “Oran Marcus Byrne. I didn’t let you shadow my every step as a wee one so you’d grow up as dense as a stone.”
“The girl is part of Wellington's circle and swimming in secrets. I have no reason to give her the benefit of the doubt.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be worried about her. She’s given you plenty of reason to believe in her; you just need to get your head out of your arse.”
How was I supposed to argue with that?
A wry smile teased the corners of my lips as I shook my head. “You know, someday you just might be wrong. It could happen.”
“Doubtful, but even so. Today is not that day. Now, tell me about this lass.”
I took a deep breath, my gaze dropping to my hands. “Her name is Lina Schultze, and the cursory search I did showed that she uses her father’s last name even though her mother remarried when she was young.”
“Not a stretch to understand a child wanting to keep ties to her father,” Nana noted.
“Agreed, and the family seems normal on paper, but appearances are meaningless.” I paused as Lina’s anger toward her mother played in my head. “She has a younger sister who lives with family in Paris. I wouldn’t want my kidliving a continent away, but it’s not unusual for that bougie sort—boarding schools and all that crap.”
“Aye. Some tend to be less hands-on than I think is proper. You think she’s in some sort of trouble, do you?”
“I know she is,” I admitted reluctantly. “I just don’t know what.”
Nana patted my hand with a knowing grin. “Sounds like she crossed your path for a reason.”
“To punish me.” I scowled. “I must have really fucked up in a past life.”
“Don’t make me hurt you, boyo,” she said in a playful tone edged in warning. “It’s time for my coffee. Get your nana a cuppa, and don’t forget the uisce beatha.”Water of life.
As usual, Nana took me from a grimace to laughter in under a minute. “Aren’t you too old for whiskey in your coffee?”
“Don’t be an eejit.”
I tipped my head back and laughed from deep in my belly.
After spending the afternoon with Nana and Paddy, my evening was much less lighthearted. As promised, I arranged for dinner with Wellington and Renzo Donati. It was the longest hour and a half of my life. I imagined launching myself across the table and spearing Wellington with my steak knife at least half a dozen times.
We didn’t delve into the docks or any particular arrangements with any detail. Instead, we framed the meeting as a get-to-know-you opportunity to set the groundwork for a lasting relationship. I got a small amount of satisfaction knowing it was all a ploy, and we were playing Wellingtonfor a chump. He was clueless. By the time he departed for his black Town Car, he was in high spirits, patting my back and laughing like we were long-lost family.
Boy, was he in for a surprise.