All Of Me (Book 3 of Lastor Series)

Chapter 14

I gripped the skirt of my maxi dress as I stepped out of the car, the clear blue water drawing me in. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and letting the ocean fill my senses. The wind blew away my floppy hat and I heard one of the guys run after it. I opened my eyes, bending back my leg to unravel the ribbon tying my wedge to my ankle.

"Angel," Rick called in a warning tone as he got out of the car. "Don't you dare."

I slipped off my other wedge before making a dash for the dock. I heard Rick curse as he ran after me. Right before I could dive into the water, he caught me, bounding an arm around my middle and lifting me off my feet.

"Babe..." I whined, trying to get out of his hold. "I wanna swim."

"Uh-uh," he bit out, hauling me up on his shoulder before walking towards the yacht. "You're not leaving me alone with your family all day. I feel stupid listening to them go on in French."

"But the water looks so good," I whined again, looking wistfully at the ocean.

"It's too cold and I want to watch the race," he said as he climbed up the stairs to the yacht, greeting the crew we passed.

"The race won't start till eight," I complained. "I'll come up when it does."

"No, you won't. Whenever you go in open water, you never want to get out and you always end up going too far."

"I'll stay close," I promised.

"That's what you said when we were in Mozambique, right before you got lost. We had to organize a rescue. There were helicopters. Kat broke Sawyer's nose for losing you. You could have died. I wanted to kill you."

I wrinkled my nose. "It wasn't that bad."

He sighed. "We're staying on the boat."

"This is so unfair," I grumbled, letting my body go limp.

"You already spent all morning in the pool. If you spend more time in the water, you'll start growing gills."

"How convenient that would be," I mumbled to myself.

He smacked his palm against my ass lightly. "Quit being cute. Time to be a bitch."

He reached the main deck and set me down. Finn offered me my wedges along with my hat and I slipped them on, grudgingly letting Rick drag me up the stairs. I snatched his aviators off the collar of his polo shirt and put them on as we made our way to the sun deck. I groaned internally at the sight of my family's entourage. From Grandpapá's mates to Alain's roster of pretty models.

"If anyone speaks to me, I will throw myself off the hull," I muttered under my breath.

"They won't," Rick assured me, kissing my temple. "If they do, you can just scare them away."

A group of people we passed greeted us with cordial smiles and I flipped my middle finger at them in response. Rick snorted, pushing my arm down and quickly steering me away from them. Grandpapá caught sight of us and waved us over as he sat along the couch wrapped around the deck. He said something to the men seated with him and they scurried away just as we reached them. I dropped myself beside him, folding my arms across my chest.

"Are you in a mood again?" Grandpapá observed in wry amusement.

"She wants to be in the water," Rick explained when I didn't respond, taking a seat beside me. "And I don't want to conduct CPR."

"I drowned twice," I defended. "And both times were because I fell asleep."

He sighed, spreading his arms over the couch. "I only hear you reminding me you almost died twice because of your weird ass water fetish."

"It's no less weird than your obsessive need to work out three hours a day," I spat back.

"It's an hour and a half. Don't round up," he corrected flippantly, taking a piece of tart from a server who came to us. I scoffed, swatting the tart from his hand. He sighed, looking at me. "You're acting like a child."

"You're acting like an asshole. Oh wait, you are an asshole," I spat.

He rubbed a hand down his face, looking like he was restraining himself from screaming. "Fine. Go swim. Excuse me for wanting you to spend more time with me than the freaking water. You obviously enjoy being around it than me so go."

He got up and I dragged him back beside me, making him put his arm around my shoulder. "You're so f*****g annoying," I muttered irately as I climbed onto his lap. "Just say what you want for crissake."

Grandpapá chuckled. "Ah, to be young lovers," he said with a sigh. "I can no longer recall how it feels to want and be wanted." He tipped his wine glass towards us. "I pray you two don't suffer the same fate."

I rolled my eyes, grasping Rick's cheek when he kissed my shoulder. "Oh, what suffering," I muttered dryly, stroking Rick's growing stubble. "To have a rotation of beautiful and well-educated mistresses who never grow past the age of forty serving your pleasure."

He threw his head back, his laughter booming loudly. "Alright, not much suffering there, I admit." He glanced over to the mistress he had chosen to bring along for this trip. She was standing on the other side of the deck, chatting with a group of people. "Though these days, I find it's become rather dull to be humored out of obligation."

I scoffed, nestling into Rick's chest as he embraced me. "You get what you pay for."

"If only affection can be bought."

"Dieu du Ciel!" I exclaimed sarcastically, dropping my head on Rick's shoulder. "What has become of you, Duke Liam? You're making me sick."

He chuckled, raising his wine glass. "Old age and impending death, my dear."

My humor vanished. "Stop that. It's not funny."

He smiled, patting my shin. "I have some business with you. Come. I left the saloon downstairs empty for us," he said before rising to his feet.

I arched a brow, pushing up the aviators over my head. "Do you understand what you're saying, Grandpapá?" I leaned towards him, tilting my head back to look up at him. "Business with me, are you aware of what that entails?" He nodded, a grave look suddenly appearing on his face. I narrowed my gaze, catching the uneasiness he was carrying. "When you say business, you mean you're acquiring my services, yeah?"

He glanced at Rick before replying, "Yes."

"I'm gonna give you guys a moment," Rick muttered, shuffling out from under me.

I clenched my jaw in annoyance, watching him go off to where his guards were huddled together. "Do you have a pen?" I asked Grandpapá.

"Marcel," he called, waving over his butler who was standing nearby. He came to us, looking at him expectantly. "A pen."

He reached into his suit jacket and produced a pen. Grandpapá offered it to me and I took it, popping the cap off.

"Contact my associate Arthur Hagen," I instructed, taking Grandpapá's hand and writing down Artie's business phone number. "Tell him I referred you for a consultation and to set the appointment separately from the others, preferably as soon as he's available. Discuss the details with him and, if it's worth my time and effort, he'll pass it on to me."

Grandpapá frowned, glancing at his palm. "Should I be insulted?" he asked, laughing lightly.

"I'm here to support my beloved cousin and spend time with you," I said as I placed the pen cap back on, tossing it to Marcel. "If you were just a random person, I'd have you dragged off this boat for unceremoniously barging into my personal time and you'd never have another chance at breathing the same air as me again." I smiled back at him. "But I can tolerate a fair amount of impertinence if it's for family, though I advise against disrespecting me again. Especially my fiancée. If you find my conduct insulting though, you're welcome to take your business elsewhere. I don't necessarily like dealing with presumptuous people who bother me when I'm off the clock."

His brows raised slightly and I just stared at him, dismissing my affection for him. His posture shifted as he appraised me, visibly struggling to bear with me. As if realizing the offense he'd committed and suddenly becoming aware of who I was outside of being his granddaughter, he lowered his head in contrition.

"Pardon me," he said. "I didn't consider-"

"Stop," I cut in. "Like I said, I'm off the clock. I ain't playing along with that s**t right now."

He sighed, raising his head. "I'm afraid my business demands urgency."

I scoffed. "One thing you need to know if you want me to be in your service," I began, leaning back. "I don't get off my ass for a gig that pays less than what I can earn without moving for a day."

He smiled. "And what will 'get you off your arse', so to speak?"

I clicked my tongue against my teeth, folding my arms across my chest. "That's what Art's for. He decides what is worth my time and effort."

"Then what of-"

"Your Grace," I cut in, casting him a dark look. "You've taken enough of my time. I wish to enjoy myself. Any further questions you have, rest assured Arthur Hagen will answer them for me as I would. Now, stop bothering me before I find you intolerable."

I stood, walking over to Rick as he was standing by the hull and looking out to the ocean. I tackled him from behind, wrapping my arms around him as I tucked my chin on his shoulder.

"Hey, pretty," I mumbled, standing on the tip of my toes. "Fancy some company?"

"Lady, my girl's deadass crazy and she will drown us both if you don't get off me," he muttered sardonically.

I snickered. "I bet I can take her."

He chuckled, shifting and pulling me to his front. I hiked myself up on the railing while he settled himself between my thighs as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his face on my chest.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"The thing your grandfather needed your help with."

"No idea. I passed him off to Art for now," I mumbled sheepishly.

He lifted his head, resting his chin on my chest. "People come to you when there's no one else they can go to, right?"

I arched a brow, my lips twitching. "People come to me because I'm the best at what I do and going to anyone else is just wasteful."

"And for your grandfather to come to you, he must know the cost."

I sighed, wrapping arms around his neck. "Do you know what they call me?" He shook his head. "Reaper," I said, chuckling lightly. "It came about because whenever I took on a request, I didn't charge a monetary fee for my services but instead, a promise of a favor. Since there was virtually nothing to lose in the deal, I got clients constantly coming in. When I first started collecting debts, they'd try to brush me off or just flat out refuse to hold their end. I already expected that and I only granted their requests as an investment." I tilted my head, lowering my lids halfway. "My first twenty clients, only three of them paid me back. The seventeen who didn't earned me the name Reaper."

Fear was evident in his eyes as he stared at me but his arms remained tightly wound around my waist. "You had them killed."

I sighed, cupping his cheek. "No. I destroyed them, their livelihood, possessions, and reputation, but left them alive as an example." I bit my lip, brushing my thumb along his cheek. "To sell one's soul and give themselves to me completely, that is the cost of using me. Refusal and disobedience will be met with not an ounce of mercy."

"Is that why you asked him before, what it means to do business with you?"

I nodded. "When I do business, I cast aside my conscience and sentimentality in order to both survive and succeed," I mumbled, stroking his stubble. "Grandpapá approached me as a contractor whose services he wanted to acquire, not his granddaughter. I have to act and make judgments as I would with any other potential client. One of Art's roles is to be an impartial judge and determine whether something is worth my time and effort. If he endorses Grandpapá as a client, only then will I entertain him. If Art says it's not worth it, it will be rejected without exception."

He frowned. "Then you should have told him that."

I shook my head, smiling. "This information can be used to exploit me. If it's leaked to outsiders, everyone I love will be targeted and I'll be a slave to my enemies." I grasped his jaw, bringing my lips over his. "Just imagine... me being owned by someone with ill intent. Made to f**k, kill, and conquer at their bidding. Used as a living weapon, the way my father had." I nipped at his bottom lip, tracing it with the tip of my tongue. "The Master of Souls' master, how many would kill to claim such a grand title?"

His arms tightened around me, the fear in his eyes growing. "Can someone do that?"

I nodded, nudging his nose with mine. "The people I love are both at the most vulnerable and powerful positions in my life. My enemies will target them to get to me... but what if those I love decide to use their power over me?" I locked our eyes together, his pupils dilating as our gazes met. "I would let them use me for all I'm worth and even when I no longer have anything left. Even when I've been broken to pieces. Even when I'm just a hunk of flesh that can hardly move. Even when I want to die, I'll keep enduring the act of living. I'll keep letting myself be used. I'll keep f*****g, killing, and conquering anyone they tell me to. Because there's nothing I won't do for the people I love."

He let out a breath, burying his face against my neck. "Don't let anyone else hear that," he said vehemently, gripping the back of my dress. "And don't love any more people."

I sighed, cradling the back of his head and slipping my fingers through his hair. "Let me live for you," I whispered in his ear. "Take me. Own me. Be my everything and you will be the only one who can have power over me."

"I can't," he whispered back, his embrace crushing me.

I pursed my lips, fisting at his hair. "Why?" I asked helplessly. "What's so horrible about being what I live for?"

He drew back, pressing his forehead against mine. "I can't give you purpose, baby," he said ruefully. "You're Angel Lastor, a f*****g goddess. I'm just a normal guy. To make you lay yourself at my feet would be an insult to you and everything I love about you. I can't do that."

I closed my eyes, lowering my forehead to his shoulder. "I'm no god," I said, releasing my grip on his hair and letting my arms fall limply at my sides. "I'm just a useless tool no one wants or needs."

*********

The streets of Monte Carlo and La Condamine was abuzz with excitement and enthusiasm as the racers zoomed past Port Hercule for their seventy-seventh lap around the circuit. Rafael was trailing closely to the first position, struggling to pass him. Uncle Philippe, his father, was stomping his feet and cursing in the air as he cheered him on, slapping people's backs when Rafael finally took the lead.

"s**t, he's gonna win it," I said as I held the binoculars to my eyes.

Alain scoffed from beside me. "Fantastique. Je viens de perdre une fortune." (Fantastic. I just lost a fortune.)

I lowered my binoculars, turning my head to look at him. "Paris-tu à nouveau contre lui? Est-ce là la raison pour laquelle tu lui sers du vin constamment?" (Are you betting against him again? Is that why you've been plying him with wine?)

"Non, grand-papa ne permet pas de Paris contre la famille," (No, Grandpapá doesn't allow betting against the family,) he muttered bitterly under his breath. "Je parie seulement qu’il va s’écraser." (I only bet he would crash.)

I slapped him upside the head. "Pourquoi ferais-tu ça?" (Why would you do that?)

He shrugged, rubbing his head. "Il continue à baiser mes femmes." (He keeps f*****g my women.)

"Tu fais de même avec ses femmes," (You do the same with his women,) I said incredulously.

He shrugged again. "D’accord. Je pensais que ce serait drôle." (Okay. I thought it would be funny.)

I laughed, jumping in my seat when I heard a loud boom in the distance. The people at the bar suddenly let out shrieks.

"Baby," Rick called, getting to his feet as he held his binoculars to his eyes. "Look."

I held up my pair and looked back to the circuit, assessing the lanes as the cars continued to surge forward. Guin, Rafael's mother, was wailing and we ran towards the bar, looking at the TV showing Rafael's smoking car bashed against a barrier a few feet over the grid. 

"Voilà pourquoi tu ne paries pas contre la famille, Al," (That is why you don't bet against family, Al,) I bit out.

"You bet against Raf?" Uncle Philippe snarled.

He held up his hands. "No! I only bet he would crash!"

Uncle Philippe slapped him while Guin let out another cry, falling dramatically against a couch. I shushed them, pointing at the TV as it showed Rafael's team rushing to break the door, dragging him out and laying him on the ground. The camera was jostling, running to the scene while the reporter relayed her disbelief and worry. When Rafael rolled over and ripped off his helmet to flash a game winning smiling at the camera that had the crowd's loud cheers reaching us at sea, I let out a breath while everyone in the deck exclaimed in relief.

"Je vois qu’on a tous les deux gagné," (I see we both win,) I heard Alain mutter from beside me. I glared at him but he just grinned. "Vas-y. Le batard vit. Réjouissons-nous. Il a remporté un autre trophée et j’ai gagné vingt millions d’euros." (Come on. The bastard lives. Let us rejoice! He's won another trophy and I've won twenty million euro!)

I shook my head, pursing my lips to hold back a smile. "Rotti," I called, turning my head to look at Leonardo as he stood quietly in my shadow. "Send someone over there and report to me my cousin's status."

He nodded, speaking into his radio and relaying the order. Alain popped another bottle of champagne, consoling his hysterical mother with a glass. Uncle Philippe was going around kissing everyone and when he grabbed Rick, he paused and glanced at me. I regarded him with a narrowed stare and he smiled, coming to me instead.

He grasped either side of my head, pecking my cheeks with chaste kisses. "I thank you for your patronage over my reckless son."

"Anything for family," I replied with a faint smile. "Now, if you please, stop touching me."

He pulled his hands away, chuckling. "I forget."

He went to join the celebration, giving his wife a kiss that was the epitome of French. I caught sight of Artie from my peripheral as he stepped out to the deck. I turned my head to face him, watching him approach. I raised my brows expectantly and he responded with a curt nod to convey his approval.

"I'll be back in a sec," I told Rick, kissing his cheek. I met Artie halfway and he sidled up next to me while my guards followed behind. "What took so long?"

He took a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy sigh. "It's... a rather... complicated and heavy request."

"Don't be vague," I muttered as we went down the stairs to the main deck. "You think it's worth doing, why?"

"Because it can finally bring the most elusive and influential league of people in the world within your grasp."

I paused mid step, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. "The Association." He nodded. I turned to face him, folding my arms across my chest. "This is rich. The old man's one of them?"

"I believe he's only an envoy, though I didn't ask for confirmation."

I scoffed. "To use my grandfather after what they did to me. I don't know whether they're cowards or clever."

"It's probably because of their previous actions against you that they used His Grace as a mediator," he said grimly.

Cloaked in secrecy and restrictions, I was only made aware of the Association's existence when I took on a job for a war criminal my junior year of high school. The job involved making him and his family disappear, and providing them with new identities and a home. I was right in the middle of the operation when Gramps called me and told me to walk away from it because there were some people who wanted him, and if I didn't get out, they'd come for me too. I was an arrogant and angsty brat who thought she was invincible so I just told him to f**k off and finished the job just in time for midterms. And as he promised, they came for me. Dragged me right off my bed and locked me in some f*****g bunker, spending every hour of the day torturing me for information on my client's whereabouts. I only broke when they brought in Artie and put a gun to his head.

I've been harboring a shitload of resentment for that humiliating defeat and had dedicated a fortune in attempts at investigating them but I could never gain any worthwhile intel. To think they'd come to me of their own accord and to top it off, basically offering themselves to be under my mercy. It was too good and in my experience, when things were too good, it brought a s**t storm.

"Why come to me?" I asked. "I doubt there's anything they can't do on their own."

"If you refuse them, they will opt to personally deal with the matter but they seem to be intent on keeping their distance."

My brows furrowed. "What's the deal?"

"If you accept the request, they will provide financing and-"

"No. What are they using me for?" I cut in.

"A war."

I smirked, licking my lips. "A war involving those peace loving heathens. Are you teasing me, sweetheart?"

He shook his head. "You're bored to death. I believe this is something that can remedy that."

I scoffed, walking ahead. "Unless I'll be facing against Ares and Athena in this war, I doubt it."

We entered the saloon and Marcel caught sight of me as he stood beside Grandpapá who was watching a live feed of the racetrack, leaning over to him and whispering in his ear. He drew his gaze to me and I wordlessly dropped myself on the couch, propping my feet on the table. Artie remained standing along with my guards.

"Raf did better than I expected," Grandpapá commented. "Perhaps I should congratulate you as well, as his patron."

"There's no audience, Your Grace," I said, spreading my arms over the couch. "Let's not bother with pretenses."

He nodded, leaning back and crossing his legs. "I trust Mr. Hagen has given you the specifics?"

I shrugged. "I get the gist."

"And?"

"You one of them?"

He smiled lightly. "If by them, you mean the Association, yes. Though honestly, I'm merely a delegate who listens and abides to their rule. The leaders who govern the Association itself, such as the Lastor family, are beyond me."

I nodded in understanding. "And why should I provide my services to the same people who tortured me into turning on my client?"

He sighed, looking dismayed. "It shouldn't have come to that. The man killed innocents and executed anyone who rebelled against his barbaric regime. He was not worth enduring torture for."

"I didn't endure daily beatings and waterboarding for two weeks in honor of some misplaced loyalty," I spat, scoffing. "My business relies on discretion. If it got around that I can't be trusted to keep my clients' affairs to myself, I would have become Public Enemy Number One."

"Yes, I understand, and as a sincere apology for the inconvenience we might have caused you, the leaders are extending this olive branch," he replied, cradling his wine glass between his fingers. "They're admirers of you and wish to offer you a position within the Association, separate from the Lastor family."

My ears perked at that and I cast a brief glance to Artie. "What position would that be?"

"We don't conform to orthodox titles, but if the position could be described, it would be an overseer whose main duties are to resolve conflicts identified by the leaders as destructive to the overall peace."

I laughed. "So basically, a f*****g lackey," I said, c*****g my head to the side as I seized my laughter. "You overestimate my affection for you, Your Grace. Do you think I'd stand for this mockery?"

He sighed. "You Lastors always take offense so easily," he complained before taking a sip of wine. "The Association acknowledges your skill and influence to be beyond reproach, and wish to have you steel it towards the benefit of the world. Not as a mere lackey, but as a crusader of our cause."

I rolled my eyes. "No, you want me to be your own personal arsenal and advocate for your narcissistic view that you're all some type of omnipotent Gods."

"The Association isn't as sinister as you believe," he said with a light laugh.

"A cult of ghouls who disguise murder, g******e, systematic oppression, and torture, just to name a few, as methods for maintaining peace in the world isn't sinister?" I muttered sardonically. "If so, then I'm as holy as my name suggests."

He smiled. "I don't wish to debate on ethics and morality. I'd rather focus on the business at hand, that's if there is a business to be done?"

I shrugged. "I don't work around ethics and morality, but-" I held up a finger. "- you use me, you pay me. Handsomely."

He shifted in his seat. "I won't waste time making any further offers. Instead, how would you like to be compensated for your services?"

I licked at the inside of my cheek, eyeing him intently. "Depends on what type of service is asked of me."

"Then... what of war?"

I sighed, propping up my elbow and cupping the back of my head. "That also depends on what role I'd be taking. A soldier, a financier, an intelligence operative, a logistics manager, or a commander?"

"Presumably, all five."

I bit my lip, tapping my index finger against my skull. "Then that would cost the souls of those who wish to use me."

He nodded thoughtfully. "That's a high price. What assurances can you give that the 'souls' you've reaped won't be paid in vain?"

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. "That's the third time today you've insulted me." I tilted my head, narrowing my gaze. "Perhaps I should offer them assurance by slaughtering the sacrificial lamb that you are, Your Grace."

He sighed, balancing the wine glass on his knee. "If my death can serve the greater good, then do as you please."

I rolled my eyes. "The dying are such a bore," I spat in annoyance, dropping my head back and closing my eyes. "Payment after service is my protocol. If I fail, then there's nothing to pay for."

"Am I to take that as your acceptance of our request?"

"If the request interests me and you can guarantee the Association will hold their end when I come to collect."

"Of course. We will be at your disposal."

"Now, interest me," I demanded nonchalantly, waving a hand. "Tell me who I'm going to war against and why."

He paused briefly, clearing his throat. "The Lastor family."

I laughed, opening my eyes and leveling my head. "Oh, man." I pulled my legs back, leaning forward. "Were you the ones who came after me outside the hotel last month?"

At my words, Finn, Javier, and Aran drew their guns, yelling at Marcel to raise his arms when he moved to reach into his jacket. Leonardo caught on after a beat and did the same while Artie rushed to stand in front of me.

"Wait! Wait!" Grandpapá stammered, shooting to his feet. The guys started yelling at him, telling him not to move. "Angel, we had nothing to do with the Moscow incident! Why would the Association take part in an attack towards you when we're seeking a partnership with you?"

I tilted my head, leaning to the side to look past Artie. "I didn't say I was attacked in Moscow."

He faltered for a moment, pursing his lips. Javier, who was closest to him, stepped forward and pressed the muzzle of his gun on Grandpapá's temple.

"Rotti," Javier said in a low voice. "Your call."

Leonardo glanced at me, hesitating. "We need to confirm."

Javier shot him a glare. "Our sole objective is to eliminate any perceived threats against Miss Lastor. There is no room for confirmation, or hesitation."

"You should explain, Your Grace," I interjected, placing a hand on Artie's back. He stepped aside. "My authority over my men is nullified when they perceive a threat against me. In this moment, they are acting within their judgment and they happen to be rather bitter over what happened in Moscow. We almost lost three people in our team that night, after all."

Grandpapá swallowed, glancing warily at them. "Alright, I'll explain, but please put away your weapons. Neither of us have any intention of harming Angel."

They didn't move or respond. Grandpapá glanced at me for help but I just shrugged.

"Like I said, I don't have authority over them when they believe I'm under threat," I said, placing my feet back on the table. "It would be best to disprove their belief before their trigger finger slip."

"Krymov," he said in resignation. "He's a member of the Association. He reported the incident."

"Oh, is that right?" I tilted my head. "So you're saying the Association just decided out of the blue to wage war against the Lastor family and coincidentally thought I would make a great avenue for it, just as my would-be abductors did?"

"No, we're not waging a war against them," he insisted. "We want to stop the one that's about to happen. And I don't know about these would-be abductors but the Association has been monitoring you and the Lastor family since you and Anthony left your positions in their council."

"And why is that?" I pressed. "Why are you monitoring us?"

"Yours and Anthony's simultaneous removal from their ranks greatly destabilized the balance of power to the point that Jude's authority is no longer acknowledged by the rest," he replied. "If it continues, the Lastor family will devour itself with endless civil wars and eventually spill out to the surface, affecting the security and economic stability of nations and businesses associated with them."

"So why wait till now?" I asked further. "It's been over a year since I left."

"Due to the sensitivity of the situation, many among the Association are against our direct involvement. That's why it was proposed that we could form a bridge through you, though it's known you left the council on bad terms so we had to anticipate for a time where you might be more open to our proposition."

I arched a brow. "The time has come, I assume?"

He nodded. "Earlier this morning, I received word from one of the leaders of the Association about the Lastors engaging in yet another civil war amongst themselves," he went on. "Though calling it a coup would be more apt. Apparently, there's a faction who are intending to impeach Jude as Head and if they are successful, it will trigger further destabilization."

I turned my attention to Artie. "Is that true?"

He nodded. "I was informed by my brother earlier this morning as well. He intended for me to relay it to you but you've prohibited any mention of matters involving the family council and Master Jude, unless you ask."

"Yes, and yet, here I am," I said, bringing my gaze back to Grandpapá. "Being bothered by such matters. Pray tell, why?"

"It was a consensus view within the Association that a civil war in the Lastor family cannot be allowed to erupt, or it will cause a domino effect," Grandpapá answered. "To prevent this, your involvement will be needed in order to subdue any existing or possible insurgencies."

I slammed the heel of my wedge against the glass table. "If it's a civil war, an outsider can only take part at the behest of either faction. To disregard the rules of engagement is punishable by execution, whether you carry the blood of a Lastor or not." I lowered my head slightly to the side, eyeing him from under my lashes. "Who's authority are you acting on behalf of?"

He frowned, looking bemused. "I'm... acting on behalf of the Association, of course."

I let myself smile. "How arrogant of you. The Lastor family does not acknowledge any authority except for the council. We live and die by their rule, no one else."

"The threat this conflict poses is no longer contained within the Lastor family and as your council currently stands, its authority is unreliable," he fired back with composed vehemence. "The Association did not decide on this lightly but at this point, interference is necessary."

I sighed, clutching my forehead as I pressed my temples. "Insult after insult. Is there something about me that warrants mockery?" I muttered to myself. "People these days seem to be unaware of the fact that it's my whim that grants them the privilege of drawing breaths in my presence."

"Angel, you have to-"

"I have to do nothing," I cut in sharply, sending him a glare. "I'm Angel f*****g Lastor, sir. I am not obliged to do a single f*****g thing for f*****g anyone, least of all the lot of you." I set my feet on the floor and stood. "You tell that little cabal they may be the rulers of this world but they have no right to interfere with the Lastor family's personal matters. We answer to no one but ourselves. Just because we're seated at the same table does not make us peers."

I turned, heading to the door and my guards followed suit.

"If you don't accept the request, they will deal with the Lastor family without discretion," he called after me. "Not even children who have yet to leave their mothers' wombs will be spared."

I paused, slowly turning back to face him. I stalked towards him and Marcel moved forward. I grabbed him, slamming his face into the table in front of Grandpapá repeatedly until the glass broke and he fell unconscious. Shoving him aside, I straightened and brought my gaze on Grandpapá who was sitting frozen on the couch.

"Your desperation has clouded your judgment," I said, my body burning with rage as the blood splattered all over my skin heated my skin. "Did you think threatening my niece can enforce my submission?" I swung my leg, kicking Marcel in the gut repeatedly. "Let me remind you, I am not the same sixteen year old greenhorn you people abducted and tortured." I lifted my leg, stomping on Marcel's knee. Anticipating his scream, I stomped on his neck. "You lowly men hold the foolish belief that you're Gods. Making demands and acting high and mighty while hiding in the shadows. Going so far as mocking those who rule over you." I pushed Marcel onto his chest and started stomping on his lower back. "You ought to remember your place."

I straddled Marcel on the floor, pushing him on his back. I started beating him, releasing my rage on every blow. When he pushed me off him, I dragged him back, hitting his side. At some point, I lost myself and started using my right arm, the pain in my shoulder bringing my senses back into focus.

Panting, I got off him and he pitifully tried to crawl away again, grasping onto Artie's foot who simply stepped out of his reach. I raked my hands through my hair and closed my eyes, taking a moment to gather back my control. I opened my eyes again, looking at Grandpapá as he stared in shock at the scene. I went to him and he scrambled away.

"I love you," I murmured softly, grasping his face with my blood stained hand and pulling him up to look at me. "So I will pardon the offenses you've committed today but I must warn you, you have exhausted my tolerance." I gripped his face harder as I leaned down to be at eye level with him. "Provoke me again and I will show you that even the most worthless Lastor is still far superior than the likes of timorous Gods and lowly men."

I let him go and he spewed out a fit of vomit onto the couch. I scoffed in disgust, turning and walking away. When I stepped out to the deck, I took a deep breath as the panic I had suppressed slipped past my control. I stumbled as we were going up the stairs, grabbing the back of Leonardo's jacket as he walked in front of me to steady myself.

He turned to face me, grasping my arm. "Ma'am, are you-"

"Ready the jet," I ordered. "And notify Ben I'm traveling. To New York."