“Your father is a busy man.”
No shit. All Corbinellis were. “So am I.” Victor’s tone was even, nearly threatening. He allowed his steely eyes to turn molten. Color flashed in them. Let Jemison see what beast lurked beneath his skin.
Jemison’s face paled, eyes shuttering. “Both he and your grandfather will be at your event, you know.”
Was this a weak attempt to intimidate Victor? It nearly made him laugh. His nod was curt. “I look forward to it.”
Jemison stood, buttoning his deep navy Brioni suit jacket. He didn’t say another word, simply strode from the dim lounge toward the front of the building and the bustling street, where he became a nobody sporting a fashionable suit.
Victor’s steely eyes trailed after him. At last, he finished his whiskey and turned to one of the men standing by the door. “Maintain high alert for any moves from the witch’s side. She obviously has a team. We can only hope she isn’t building a bigger one. I want all the best security at the event.”
“And what about the security for your homes and offices?” the security personnel inquired.
“I have plenty of security to go around.”
Victor checked his phone, wondering if there was word yet from Garth. He’d been tracking Voss for too damn long. I’ll deal with that bitch later. Right now, I have to get the witch out of the way.
He’d sent word to the werewolf to return as soon as possible but hadn’t yet heard from him. Had something happened? Victor bristled at the thought. He was sick and tired of his employees dying.
All the men accompanying Victor departed but one—his bodyguard. He was left to sit in the booth, nursing a second drink. Though he didn’t want to, Victor couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to Jemison and his father. His grandfather and his son. His face tightened, and one word weighed on his shoulders. Legacy.
That Thorn bitch was fucking his legacy up.
Victor wanted to pave the way for his son as his father, grandfather, and many generations before them had. Was one city enough, though? Victor’s family had sought investments and connections all over the world, but they had only ever made their home here in New York. Perhaps it was time to branch out, conquer new empires. A smile tugged at his lips with the thought.
First, I deal with my problem here. She’s smart, but if she plans revenge, it’ll be mere child’s play. She may know how to defend her home, but she can’t possibly know how to strike back.
Victor chuckled, though no one but his bodyguard was around to hear it. Once, he’d considered her merely a girl Lenny couldn’t defeat in court. Now, he realized they’d been wrong. Victor was glad to be wrong as long as his mistake could turn in his favor. Let her come to my little party and play the part I’ve set for her.
“So, you’re not going to the party?” Kiera asked, lithe arms folded, her gaze trailing from Stacy to the papers littering the table between them.
“Fuck no.” Stacy nearly spat her answer, the green in her eyes flashing a soft shade of gold for an instant. “Amy is going and acting as a distraction, while Victor’s fancy old country house where he spends most of his time is empty.”
“There will be security,” Rowan reminded Stacy from where he stood on the other side of the war room table. Stacy was still struggling to call the library with the table full of maps and strategies a war room. She couldn’t imagine her mother operating here in that way, either. However, now that she had Victor to deal with, maybe she’d get used to it.
“Not as much security as what will be at his event,” Stacy replied. “Amy and Spencer have been looking into it. Security there is tight. Much tighter than it’s been at past events, according to Amy’s previous experience. This isn’t her first gala thrown by a Corbinelli, after all.”
“Only her first gala as live bait,” Rowan grumbled.
Stacy flashed him a smile. “Aw, Rowan, it sounds like you care.”
He bristled. “Of course I care. Amy is a competent, intelligent person and your friend. As protector of you and this estate, my responsibilities extend to her.”
“And I’m deeply grateful for it,” Stacy replied.
Kiera’s lips tugged into a grin. Whatever she thought of the exchange, she didn’t comment.
“When you say ‘we,’ who do you mean?” the dryad asked.
“Us three.” Stacy gestured around the table. “I’ll have Miles stay here and maintain the ground defenses.”
Rowan nodded, approving.
“Victor has several homes throughout the city, but the one with the most security historically is an old estate outside the city. Not too far from here, actually. We will strike there when Amy gives the go-ahead. That is, when she confirms he’s actually at his event. Then, we focus on bringing down his defenses like he did here and possibly find out more about him. We can’t beat him with brute force alone. We need something to wield in court, too.”
“Does this mean you’ll have to admit to breaking into his home in court?” Rowan asked, brows drawn so close that a deep line appeared between his eyes.
“I’m figuring that out,” Stacy’s replied hastily. She did not elaborate. Rowan and Kiera shared a look but decided to trust her.
“I’d rather use knives than legal jargon,” Kiera drawled.
“Good thing our team has many abilities,” Rowan inserted.
“Why not strike him at the event itself?” the sidhe fae asked. “It wouldn’t be difficult to get Victor alone, then…” She made a swiping motion, violet eyes glittering.
“I’m not interested in turning Victor to ribbons,” Stacy answered. “It doesn’t make sense to attack Victor at a public event. His power and influence are wide-reaching. I’d be hauled off into a police car before I had a chance to draw. Or shoot…magic? I don’t know. Besides, it’s better to attack his main stronghold while he’s away. By luring Amy to his event, he suspects I’ll show up as well.”
“When, in reality, you’ll be in his home,” Rowan added.
Stacy shared the look. “Raining down hell.” For the briefest moment, the image of dragon fire filled her mind. She shook it away.
“Isn’t this event at one of his houses?” Keira asked.
“A hotel,” Rowan clarified. “One of many he owns.”
Kiera arched a brow. “He sounds like a greedy bastard.”
