Chapter six

I'm reclining in the maternity chair, my newborn daughter nestled in the crook of my arm. She's such a good baby—so quiet, only fussing when she's hungry, and then she gets all demanding and shit, like a tiny little tyrant. I glance over at Wren, sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed, and I can't help but stare at her for a while.

Last night, she wanted me to sleep beside her in that cramped bed, but it was probably the most uncomfortable fucking experience of my life. I ended up staying awake the entire night, not that sleeping is something I do much of anyway.

The quiet is shattered by a soft chime—Wren's phone lighting up with a new message. I carefully reach over and pick it up, glancing at the screen to see a text from her mom. She wants to visit Wren and Lumi.

My jaw clenches as I set the phone back down. The thought of facing her father is eating away at me, especially knowing what he's done. Wren told me last night that she wants revenge, but I know the kind of revenge I crave is focused on her father. When I finally come face to face with him, I'll know immediately if he had a hand in all of this.

At this point, I'm starting to doubt whether this is just about Savannah. Sure, she's likely involved somehow, especially since she vanished after my supposed death, but I've got a feeling this goes way fucking deeper. If Ghost is in the mix, this isn't just about Wren and me anymore—it's something bigger.

The real question gnawing at me is whether he'll try to kill me. Will he push his daughter to the brink of madness again? Any decent parent wouldn't, but Phillip had the chance to end her pain and instead chose to let me ‘die.' If that's the case, he's more of a fucking monster than I initially thought.

I may be a lot of things, but I'd never let my kids suffer because of me or my business if I can help it. Their happiness will always come first, no matter what. What Phillip's done... it's the kind of thing my own piece of shit father would've pulled, and that says more about Phillip than I ever thought. It takes a special kind of twisted piece of shit to put your own child through hell just to serve your own fucked-up agenda.

Suddenly, Lumi squirms in my arm, stretching her tiny limbs out and I raise an eyebrow with a smirk. Not a second later, Wren mirrors her, stretching her arms above her head with a groan as her brown eyes flutter open. Like mother, like daughter.

I stand and stroll over to Wren, stopping beside her. She looks up at me with a beaming smile, and I lean down to kiss her plump, rosy lips. Her palm cups my cheek as she kisses me a few more times, soft and lingering, before searching my eyes.

"You didn't sleep?" she asks, her speech still soft with sleep.

I give a small shake of my head. "No."

Her brows lift in mild surprise before her gaze shifts to Lumi, now wide awake in my arm. Wren's eyes light up as she reaches out to gently stroke Lumi's dark hair.

"I suppose you'll need feeding," she murmurs.

Wren sits up with a small whimper, adjusting herself and when she's ready, I gently hand Lumi over to her. For a moment, I just watch as Lumi begins to feed.

"I don't think I've ever been jealous of a fucking baby before," I mutter, half to myself.

Her eyes snap to mine, and I raise an eyebrow, keeping my expression flat.

She lets out a laugh, slapping my arm lightly. "Sicko."

She's not wrong—I am a fucking sicko. But I can't shake the images in my head of how she used to make me explode. The memories gnaw at me, leaving me more frustrated. Yeah, I'll just give her the benefit of the doubt, she's just given birth, but that doesn't change the fact she's my little slut and does something disgusting to my warped mind every time I look at her.

Without warning, I reach out, grabbing her face and pushing her head back against the pillow, my fingers digging into her cheeks as I squeeze.

"Don't ever forget who you're in love with. I ain't changed," I bite out close to her lips, making sure she knows exactly who holds the authority here.

Our eyes lock, a shared seriousness mixed with a dark, simmering desire. My hand moves down to her throat, just the way she likes it, and her pulse quickens under my grip.

"I don't know, I was starting to think my Arlo Hayes was going soft," she teases, a smirk playing on her lips, pushing every button she can find.

My grasp tightens around her throat, and she lifts her chin, fully embracing the roughness.

"The only thing going soft is my big cock because I'm not ramming it up your ass to shut you the fuck up," I hiss quietly, the words dripping with raw heat.

Her eyes sparkle with amusement, a silent acknowledgment that she still loves me for the unhinged bastard I am. Even as our daughter feeds peacefully from her tit, completely oblivious to her filthy parents' twisted dynamic, Wren's grin tells me all I need to know—she wouldn't have us any other way.

I bring my mouth close to hers, my breath warm against her lips. "I'm gonna fucking destroy you as soon as I get the chance, my little slut," I murmur.

Her eyes grow heavy with desire, and I smirk, raising an eyebrow and without another word, I release her, turn, and walk straight over to their belongings, tossing everything into the bags.

"What are you doing?" she asks full of confusion.

I side-eye her, barely pausing. "I'm packing your shit; what the fuck does it look like?"

"But the doctor hasn't signed me off yet," she protests.

My jaw tightens, irritation flashing through me. "Yet you're both coming home today, regardless of what they say."

"Arlo." My name rolls off her tongue, a warning in her voice.

I roll my eyes, mimicking her. "Wren."

As she stays silent, I glance over my shoulder, still shoving things into the bag. "Baby, you're coming home today. You're fine. We'll get a private fucking doctor at home if we have to."

She just stares at me from across the room, her eyes studying me intently and I sigh, dropping the bag before walking toward her.

"Don't you want to get out of this place?"

Her gaze softens too. "Of course I do."

I reach out, stroking her dark hair. "Then let's get you the fuck home. We need to get you, Lumi, and Cree into the comfort of our home. Back to some normality."

"But what if he doesn't sign me off?" she asks, full of hesitation.

I raise an eyebrow, my voice firm. "Not a fucking chance."

My attention tracks his every step as he approaches the door and exits the room. I sigh, glancing down at Lumi, who's wide awake, her big brown eyes sparkling up at me.

I speak softly to her, a warm smile spreading across my face. "It looks like we'll be going home today if Daddy has his way."

I do feel better, and the thought of being home is comforting, but I'd prefer to have a doctor sign me off properly, not just because Arlo threatened someone into it. But that's just how he is. He's been here for a few days, clearly juggling a lot now that he's back in the city and has other important stuff to deal with, yet he's stayed by my side, which I have really appreciated.

A while later, the door swings open, and my doctor steps in, Arlo following close behind with that familiar, menacing smirk plastered on his face. I roll my eyes, letting my head fall back on the pillow, before offering the doctor an apologetic smile.

"Let's check you out, Wren," the doctor says, "and if you're healing well, you can go home today."

Arlo takes Lumi from me, cradling her as the doctor begins to examine me. I notice Arlo inspecting my incision from above, his gaze sharp. When he spots me staring at him, he raises a brow at me, and when I do the same, he grins.

"From what I can see, Doc, that slice seems to be healing nicely. What do you think?" Arlo's voice almost teasing, his eyes not leaving mine.

I tilt my head, analyzing him. "When did you decide to become a doctor, Arlo?"

His jaw tightens as he grinds his teeth, those dark eyes locking onto mine. I snicker, knowing I've struck a nerve, and he leans down, his face so close to mine that I can feel the heat of his breath.

"Nah, I'm no doctor," he murmurs a quiet growl, "but I know a healing fucking wound when I see one, slut. I've caused and seen enough of them in my lifetime."

My eyes widen and when he pulls back with that wicked grin, I notice the doctor glancing between us, his gaze full of confusion and my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Arlo's in full swing today, using every chance he gets to throw out vulgarities and remind me who's in control. I can't wait to fully recover so I can take him in every way possible, especially when he talks to me like that. I can already tell we're going to drive each other mad in the coming weeks with this back-and-forth game we play.

"Well, it seems like everything is healing nicely, Wren, but only if you feel well enough to leave," the doctor says, pulling me from my thoughts.

I tear my gaze away from Arlo and offer the doctor a small smile, nodding. "I'm feeling better and ready to go home."

He nods back, removing his latex gloves and moving toward the door. "I'll get both yours and Lumi's paperwork ready."

As the door closes behind him, my eyes narrow on Arlo. He grins, lifting Lumi up so her tiny face is close to his.

"You're coming home, baby girl. Where you belong," he says, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

In that moment, all the frustration I felt toward him disperses, and my heart melts as I watch the love in his eyes.

After a refreshing shower and changing into something comfortable, I glance at Lumi, who is now nestled securely in her car seat. Arlo grabs the handle, lifting her and extends his arm toward me.

"Ready?" he asks with reassurance.

I wrap my fingers around his powerful bicep and give a slight nod. Together, we leave the room, moving at a steady pace. Arlo guides me, and we make our way through the hospital corridors. The familiar, sterile environment gradually fading away to the crisp air outside.

As we drive away from the hospital, I'm in the passenger seat beside Arlo when my phone starts ringing. I pull it from my pocket and frown at the screen—it's my mom. I cast a quick look at Arlo, noticing how he glances at the screen as well, then sinks deeper into his seat, his hand gripping tighter on the steering wheel as he focuses on the road.

I let the call go to voicemail, a sigh escaping my lips, "How do I tell them you're back?" I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose, not thinking about this sooner.

Arlo's eyes flick toward me before returning to the road. "I spoke to Jasper. He's probably got Lily to feed them a story. Just play along and go with the flow."

With a nod, absorbing his advice, I swipe up on my phone to return the call, bracing myself for the conversation.

I hold my phone up to my ear, and she answers almost immediately, "Wren?"

I take a long breath, "Hey, mom." I respond, my nerves on edge.

"Are you on your way home? I haven't heard from you in a while, but Lily says you've had the baby."

I cast a sideways glance at Arlo, noting the sudden intense focus in his eyes as he drives.

"Yeah, we're on our way home now. Sorry for not reaching out sooner; I've been really tired from the c-section," I explain.

There's a pause on her end, and I can sense her hesitation, likely because she's dying to ask about Arlo but is holding back.

"How are you both?" she finally asks, her tone softening.

"We're good, Mom, thank you. She's perfect."

I can almost hear the smile in her voice as she replies, "As expected."

I take a deep breath, considering that it might be easier to just get everything out the way now so we can move on. "Maybe you and Dad can come and meet her this evening?" I suggest, and Arlo's gaze snaps to mine.

I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head, sensing his unease.

"Well, as long as you're okay with that and ready, there's no rush, sweetheart; your health comes first," my mom says.

I look over at Arlo again, who is now staring straight ahead with a stiff jaw. "I'm absolutely fine; should we say around 6ish?" I propose.

He rolls his eyes and lets out a defeated sigh.

"That sounds perfect; we'll look forward to it," my mom responds, her tone brightening.

"Okay, great; see you then," I say before hanging up.

Turning slightly in my seat, I notice Arlo's rigid posture and clenched jaw.

"Right, what's the fucking problem?"

He doesn't look at me, shaking his head subtly. "I'm good," he mutters.

I watch carefully as he stares out the window, his expression unreadable.

"Arlo, you told me you wanted me home, and now you're acting like you don't want visitors?"

He remains silent and I become frustrated, letting out a sigh and looking forward. Suddenly, he slides his large, tattooed hand into mine on my thigh, intertwining our fingers tightly. I gaze down at our hands locked, feeling a flicker of love between us, and then meet his gaze. His eyes are now relaxed as he returns his attention back to the road.

"I'll do whatever the fuck you want me to do, beautiful," he says, his thumb caressing my knuckle.

I can't help but sense something is wrong and wonder if he's just being overly protective or if there's something deeper bothering him. I'd rather clear the air so we can start our new chapter together as a family without all the extra bullshit. We have enough on our plate right now, so what's the harm of breaking the tension in one area?

When we get home, Arlo helps me settle onto the couch in the living room, and I watch as he crouches down in front of me, carefully unclipping Lumi from her car seat.

"I'm going to call my mom and tell her to drop Cree off. Are you cool with that?" he asks, glancing at me sideways.

I reach out and rub my palm up and down his back, feeling his tense muscles, but I offer a reassuring smile. "Of course I am. She needs to meet Lumi after all."

He gives me a quick nod before scooping Lumi up and gently placing her, along with a soft blanket, beside me.

"You get one of those fucking chair things babies sleep in?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "In her bedroom," I reply with a playful grin.

I rest my head back and watch as he walks away, then shift my gaze to Lumi, sleeping peacefully beside me. My eyes soften as I look at our little angel; she's been such a good baby so far.

Arlo soon returns with the rocker and sets it on the floor before picking Lumi up. She curls her tiny body against him, and he carefully places her into the seat. After covering her with a soft blanket, he crouches in front of her, lifting her tiny fist with his finger and pressing a tender kiss to it.

Seeing this side of Arlo fills me with a warm sense of happiness. When I first entered his and Cree's lives, Cree was already three, so I never saw Arlo with a newborn. Witnessing him with his baby daughter now is a breath of fresh air. It's clear he's a natural, which shouldn't surprise me; after all, he raised Cree on his own for a long time.

Once he finishes showering Lumi with affection, Arlo pulls out his phone and begins speaking to his mom. I observe him as he moves around the room, his focused demeanor making it clear he's planning something.

When he's finished, he takes his place beside me on the couch, his arm casually draped behind me.

I tilt my head to look at him. "I hope you don't think I expect you to be here all the time; I know you have business to take care of." I gently murmur.

His eyes meet mine, unblinking. "I'm here because I fucking want to be. Business can wait. I haven't seen you or Cree in months, and now Lumi's here too."

A soft smile graces my lips, and he glances at them before wrapping his arm more securely around the back of my neck. He lifts his head, bringing his lips to mine in a kiss that deepens as his tongue explores my mouth. His hand moves to the side of my neck, his thumb brushing my jaw, and we get lost in the moment until the doorbell rings. He reluctantly pulls away, his eyes searching mine before he places one last kiss on my lips and another on my forehead.

He stands up, then heads toward the door. Moments later, he returns with Cree in his arms, and Carmella follows closely behind. I light up at the sight of Cree's face and give him a big, welcoming smile.

"Hey, baby!"

When Arlo crosses the room, he lowers Cree, who immediately runs toward me. He climbs onto the couch beside me and snuggles into my side, and I wrap my arm around his back, pulling him close.

"Did you get a good night's sleep?" I ask softly, brushing his hair away from his face.

He nods, his little head bobbing up and down. I glance down at Carmella, who is knelt down in front of Lumi. She studies our baby with a look of curiosity, and then she looks up at Arlo, a question in her eyes.

"May I?" she asks.

Arlo meets my gaze for a brief moment before returning his attention to Carmella, giving her a nod of approval. I watch as she carefully unclips Lumi from her seat and cradles her in her arms.

"Oh, you're so tiny and beautiful," Carmella murmurs, her tone softening as she bounces Lumi gently.

I observe her with unease. My relationship with Carmella has always been a bit strange. She comes across as detached and standoffish, her constant resting bitch face rarely giving away any emotions. Her demeanor seems to be shaped by her history—dealing with Arlo's father and raising Arlo during the chaos of New York's underworld.

It's clear that her past has left its mark on her, but there's something between us that I can't quite put my finger on. During when Arlo was gone, our conversations were almost about business only, with little to no personal chitchat, even when it came down to Arlo dying, there wasn't a word said. I sensed a wariness from her about me taking on Arlo's assets and the business. It almost felt like she was resentful.

She continues to admire Lumi, but the silence between us feels heavy, and I can't help but wonder what truly lies behind her icy exterior. I suppose she must've seen me as a stranger since I didn't really get to know her until Arlo ‘died.' I'm also unsettled by the fact that she never mentioned finding Arlo in Brazil, though I'm relieved she brought him back. I guess I'm just still feeling confused, and I know we need to clear the air when the time is right.

"Carmella, you should stay for a while. My parents are coming over, and I'd love for you to meet them." I say, pushing my thoughts aside for Arlo and Cree's sakes.

She pauses, her gaze fixating on Arlo rather than me and he searches her eyes for a moment before she finally responds.

"Sure, why not?"

I lift a brow, feeling an odd sensation settle inside me. We continue to sit in peace—Cree and Arlo catch up, and Carmella fusses over Lumi until she starts to cry.

"She probably needs a feed and then a changed diaper," I say.

Carmella stands from the couch and hands Lumi back to me. I cradle her on my chest and when I begin to feed her, Carmella's eyes narrow slightly.

"Oh, you're breastfeeding?"

I look up at her and give her a silent nod, expressionless.

"That's very time-consuming; I take it you will be out of business for a while?" she comments, her tone flat.

With a steady gaze, I glance down at Lumi. "I'll be here for her for as long as she needs me."

I look up at Carmella again with a raised eyebrow in defiance. "But it won't be forever; there's such a thing as a pump and a nanny."

Carmella mimics my brow lift in response, her expression unreadable, but I notice Arlo glancing between us, clearly sensing the tension between the women in the room.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings and I know it's my parents; they're the only ones expected around this time. When I look at Arlo, his jaw tightens before he turns to head toward the door.

I hesitatingly walk toward the front door, my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself before I open it. Phillip's face immediately comes into view, his smile wide and overly keen.

"Arlo, it's good to see you back!" he exclaims, extending his hand toward me.

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to lash out, but my mind races with thoughts of Wren and the need to keep things civil for her sake. I reluctantly accept his hand, giving it an excessively firm squeeze and he returns it with a somewhat condescending grin.

When we release hands, my gaze shifts to Hazel, who offers me a soft smile.

"It's really good to see you, Arlo. Congratulations," she says sincerely.

I nod in response, unsure of how much she knows about Phillip's work in the underworld, but if Wren was aware of my line of work, then surely Hazel would know about Phillip's too.

I step aside, gesturing for them to enter. "Just through there," I say, motioning toward the living room.

As they walk past me, my discomfort grows but I'm very aware that I need to keep up my fa?ade while my anger simmers beneath the fucking surface. The real test is yet to come—my mother is here, and I'm interested in seeing how Ghost will handle the situation.

I swing the door closed before trailing behind them until we're all in the living room. I observe my mom first, and of course, she plays her part by standing with a small smile and a hand stretched out.

"It's nice to meet you both; I am Arlo's mom, Carmella," she says warmly.

They all shake hands, and I glance at Wren, who is looking between them all, none the wiser. For the first time since all this started, I feel guilt laying miserably in the pit of my stomach. She has no fucking clue what the hell is going on, and we're all acting around her for what? Ghost must know his daughter took over New York when I was dead, and I left everything to her. So why the fuck shouldn't she not know now? If you're going to trust anyone with your identity, it's going to be your fucking daughter, right?

I hate lying to her; it kills me inside. She's not just my business partner, but she took my last name because she loves me for the insane cunt I am. She stepped into this world when I wasn't here like a fucking queen, and above all, she mothered my son. She never left his side, caring for him no matter how shattered she was over my supposed death, even though she didn't have to.

Cree isn't hers by blood, but she has always loved and treated him like her own. That's why I love her. She is selfless; she doesn't give a damn about the finer things in life. She cares about making everyone else happy, spreading her light into everyone's souls, even if it means her own dims in the process.

I owe her everything, including the truth, but when she finds out I've kept something so big from her, I don't know how she will fucking react. I need to find some time with her dad today to speak to him about all this. I need clarification that this wasn't all because of him before I make my next move.

I attempt to shake my fucked-up thoughts before I explode and concentrate on what is going on here. When things have calmed down and her parents have had time with Lumi, Phillip stands near me, and I side-eye him.

"We need to fucking talk," I mutter under my breath.

He looks down and then his eyes meet mine as he peers over at me. "Not here; can't you see I'm meeting my granddaughter?" he retorts firmly and my nostrils flare with annoyance.

I stay silent for a moment, watching between Cree, Wren, and Hazel. "You either speak to me right now, Phillip, if that is even your real name, or I'll tell your daughter exactly who her daddy is," I grit out quietly.

I hear him inhale deeply beside me, and I side-eye him as he stands straighter. "Don't fuck with me, Arlo."

Feeling my fury bubbling to the surface quickly and untameable, I find myself stepping forward, and when Wren looks my way, I raise my chin at her with a smile before turning around to face Phillip, blocking her view.

I cock my brow as my face drops instantly. "Drink, Phillip?" I say loudly enough for everyone to hear, giving him no choice.

I watch him glance over my shoulder at Wren or Hazel before his jaw tightens and he looks me in the eyes. He searches them, clearly pissed off, but eventually, he gives a small nod.

I smirk, raise my hand, and pat his broad shoulder. "I have some great bourbon that I would like to show you."

My face falls more serious once again before I stroll past him, pressing my hands in my pants pocket, and I hear him follow behind me to the kitchen. I walk straight to the cupboard and grab what I need before gesturing with my head for him to follow me somewhere quieter.

He traces my every step until we're outside in the yard, and I set two glasses down on a table at the outside bar.

As I begin to pour us each a glass, he speaks sternly toward me. "Don't ever do that again, Arlo. I told you I don't do business around my kids, and I am here for Wren and Lumi, not your bullshit."

My jaw tenses, and I feel like slicing his throat, but I remain calm as I pick up a glass and hand it to him. When he accepts it, I hold up mine. "To not giving a fuck about what you think."

His lips purse in annoyance, and I lock my eyes on his while shooting the whiskey back in one gulp. I hiss as it burns my throat, then continue to pour myself another.

"You really must have thought you had me, Phillip, but now look at the position you're in," I say, my gaze meeting his, noticing he still hasn't drunk his drink.

"Just say what the fuck you have to say so I can put you in your place, boy."

I can't hold my rage anymore, and I find myself taking a step into his space. "Your men were the ones who dumped me in Mexico."

His brow lifts taking a casual sip of his whiskey before giving a small nod to confirm it.

"You motherfuck…" I grit out, ready to kill his ass.

"I would be very careful, Arlo. You know I'm always watched," he warns calmly.

I pause and turn my head, noticing a red dot dancing around on my shoulder, and it dawns on me, this cunt has a sniper on me. My eyes flash to his, and he gives a small grin before slapping his hand down on my shoulder.

"Let's talk about this like real men, and I will give you my reasons."

I shake my head once before lifting my chin. "Nothing you say can justify what the fuck you have done to your own daughter. Do you know what it has done to her, thinking I was fucking dead for six months?"

He inhales deeply again before looking away, and I continue. "You obviously know she has taken over New York as my replacement; is that what you wanted, hm?"

His eyes fly to mine, and he narrows them. "And why the fuck do you think that is? You were stupid enough to leave it all to her!"

I point my finger at him, my anger boiling over. "You stupid motherfucker, I set her up for life; I didn't think she was capable of taking over New York, or she would! I thought she would at least leave it to my mom to deal with," I bite out.

"Yet she didn't, and now look who she is," he fires back.

I jerk my head back, confusion written all over my face. "For someone who runs the Elites in the States, you're fucking dumb!"

He lifts an eyebrow at my choice of words, clearly not used to being spoken to like this, but I continue with my wrath. "You left me for fucking dead; this is your fault, you backward prick. Don't ever try to say this is my doing. You're a shit father, who makes bad decisions, end of."

His face inches closer to mine, and on instinct, I slide my knife out of my sleeve and flip the blade open. He raises his hand quickly without taking his eyes away from mine to call off his sniper.

"That night, the bullet that almost ended you wasn't actually for you, Arlo."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

He cocks his head to the side before withdrawing slightly. "What was one of the things I said to you the last time we saw each other?"

I just stare at him blankly, trying to think back on our conversation and when I come up empty, he continues. "I fucking warned you; any harm that ever comes to my daughter, it would be you who was held responsible. I trusted you to keep her safe and you failed."

He shoots his whiskey back and slams it down without breaking eye contact, "My daughter was nearly killed that night because of you and your messed up family bullshit." I raises an eyebrow at his accusation, and he continues, "You can call me a shit father all you like, but from where I'm standing while you're alive, my daughter is in constant danger. When you're dead, she'll always be safe on my watch."

I purse my lips with annoyance and face aside, feeling a whirlwind of emotions—irritation and guilt whirling inside me.

"When my men finally found the shooter, he told them the bullet was for Wren, but he was startled by my men and missed. When he wouldn't give the name of who ordered the hit, my men killed him, but by that time, you were already in the car with another group of my men who had saved you," Phillip states, and my eyes meet his before he continues in a serious tone.

"That's when I ordered them to dump you in Mexico. You couldn't protect my daughter in this world, Arlo, and that is something I can't tolerate."

My teeth grind, fury reaching its ultimate peak and without warning, I grab his throat as my temper consumes me, but again, he holds his hand up swiftly.

"I suggest you let me go, or I'll allow him to blow your brains out for good this time," he warns through strangulation.

"Fucking do it, pussy," I grit out aggressively through my teeth.

His eyes narrow, and for a moment, we are locked in a deadly standoff. My anger is a living entity, clawing at my insides, demanding revenge.

"You think you can control everything, Phillip? You think you can play God with our lives?" I hiss, my grip tightening. "You're nothing but a fucking coward, hiding behind your men and your power."

His face reddens, but he manages to speak, his voice strained. "And you're a fool, Arlo. A fool who doesn't understand the stakes. This world will chew you up and spit you the fuck out if you're not careful."

I lean in closer, my dark eyes boring into his. "I'm not afraid of this fucking world, I never have been, and I'm certainly not afraid of you." I seethe before roughly pushing on his throat, reluctantly releasing him.

I walk around, rubbing my palm over my face furiously with my head lowered, feeling like I need to kill a motherfucker to release some of this pent-up anger.

"So who the fuck is involved? The big bad Ghost knows everything, doesn't he?" I demand as I stop in my tracks, my tone full of sarcasm.

He stares at me before he answers, rubbing his neck. "A bunch of people could have been connected."

I shake my head in disbelief. "And how many have been fucking killed since?"

He glances away, avoiding my gaze, and I scoff. "You don't even know who it was, do you?"

He rests up against a wall and folds his arms across his chest. "I have names, but it's not confirmed."

"And what are these names and what the fuck are their reasons?" I press, my patience wearing thin.

He raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Let's just say that cop was nothing but a dummy who had clearly lost his damn mind. He was just used, his revenge manipulated to the point of no return, but that's all he was, a dummy for someone else's agenda. This goes way deeper, and it's in a web around you and your fucking family as per usual," he adds, his tone grave.

I click my fingers at him, my irritation boiling. "Names, Phillip, I need fucking names."

He shakes his head and looks away with a sigh, dropping his arms beside him. "You're not getting involved with this, Arlo. Stay the fuck out of it and concentrate on Wren and your kids. You need to take a step back and sort your head out."

There's no way in hell I'm stepping back from this. He is crazy if he thinks otherwise; there's some cunt out there who tried to kill Wren and my daughter. He is living in a fucking dream world if he thinks I'm not diving into this and killing the motherfuckers held responsible.

"Wren is under the impression it's Savannah," I say, trying to probe for anything, but he just tilts his head from side to side while shrugging his shoulders, not making this easy for me.

"I mean, she should die, but she isn't the biggest problem in all this and that's why she isn't dead yet."

"Fucking tell me, Phillip, or I swear to God, I will tell Wren everything," his eyes snap to mine when I say the threat, and I give a small nod. "She deserves to know after everything she has been through, and I'm not going to lie to her anymore."

"That's not for you to decide, Arlo. She has no reason to know," he snaps, his face going red as his nostrils flare.

"What fucking harm will it cause her knowing? If anything, it will benefit her."

He pushes himself away from the wall and starts walking toward the house. "We're done here," he says over his shoulder.

My hands ball into fists so tightly that my short nails break the skin, and I feel like going insane watching him walk away. The rage inside me is a fucking cyclone, threatening to destroy everything in its path. I can't let this go. I won't let this go.

"Phillip!" I shout, my voice echoing in the stillness of the yard. He stops but doesn't turn around. "You think you can just walk away from this? You think you can keep me and Wren in the dark and control everything? You're fucking wrong. I will find out the truth, with or without your help."

He turns his head slightly, just enough for me to see the cold, calculating look in his eyes. "Do what you have to do, Arlo. But remember, you're not the only one with something to lose."

With that, he walks back inside the mansion, leaving me standing there lost in my own insanity.