Chapter 51

Chapter Fifty-One

Viktor

W hen Ava moved into the penthouse, I thought things would be difficult, but I enjoy it. She looks more relaxed and happier. Even though I have spent a few nights with her, she won't let me move in. She claims it's her space. I don't take it personally, considering we have dinner every night as a family, and I claim her before I leave. But I won't lie, I hate waking without her beside me.

Today I'm at Manarch Industries reviewing a new property I might buy. My personal ventures have been extremely successful. It makes me wonder if I should leave the family business behind and go legitimate. It would certainly make my life more peaceful. I wouldn't have to deal with my father or Cillian. They could take the clan business and let me be, but that will never happen, and I'm not wired to walk away.

I received news earlier that Cillian is looking for me. Bullshit, considering he knows where to find me. I wrap things up at the office. I told Oliver I would go to Eros and check things out. The club has been closed longer than we expected, but he wants to open it again, especially since it's the only place my men can unwind without worrying.

"Becky, I'm leaving for the day," I tell my PA.

"Ok, Mr. Manarch. Have a nice afternoon."

I loosen my tie as I leave the building, and spot Cillian while walking to my car. Odd. But ok, two can play that game.

"Just the man I was waiting for," he says, heading my way.

"You could have come inside where I've been all day," I snidely point out.

"True, but I'd rather speak in private," he responds.

I laugh. "Because conversation in the middle of the sidewalk is private." I walk past him to my car, open the trunk, put in my briefcase and get my gun.

"There's no need for your weapon. It's not that kind of visit." I ignore him and put it behind my back. Just because he's standing alone doesn't mean he is. I've played this game too.

"What do you want?" I close the trunk.

"I want my granddaughter. Fiona says you won't let her take Aisling."

"Fiona is not fit to be a mother," I state calmly.

"True as that might be, she's a McIntyre and belongs with her family."

I laugh. "She's a Manarch, and I'm her father. Her place is with me."

"I won't have your mistress raising my granddaughter."

"So is that what this is about?" I should have known Fiona would try anything to get her way. "Aisling is staying with me. End of discussion."

"Many things could happen to someone when they are outdoors. I hate to think what could happen to Ms. O'Brien," he responds evenly.

I take several steps toward him. The man is five-six and less than two hundred pounds. I could crush him like a bug.

"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you. Did you really think I'd be here alone?" I look around and see no one.

"You're missing the red dot over your heart." I look down, and there it is.

"Original, a sniper. I didn't peg you for being a coward. I guess we all have limitations, even the great Cillian McIntyre." I'm not afraid of dying, but I won't do that to my family. "What do you want, Cillian?"

"Power. Give me your seat at the table, and I'll let you be. It's not like you need the power the Manarch name brings. Manarch Industries seems to be doing well." He looks at my building. "What's it worth now? I believe fortune five hundred said a quarter of a billion dollars. One of the richest men in the world and only thirty-three years old. You don't need the Manarch Clan." His voice is mocking, but his eyes drip envy.

"I'm going to pretend what you're asking didn't just happen. I suggest you get back in your car and go back to whatever hole you were in." He takes a step toward me. "Word to the wise, your sniper might be a fine shot, but I'm an excellent marksman. I might go down, but you will go down with me." I take my gun from my back and hold it beside my leg.

"No need to get all macho. I just want my granddaughter." He takes a step back.

"Neither you nor Fiona will ever have my daughter. If there isn't anything else?—"

"I'll take your seat at the table," he says with a smirk.

I laugh. "Try." I fix him with a glare and cock my gun. He doesn't say anything and starts walking.

I wait a minute before I get in my car. If Cillian wants me dead, this is the perfect opportunity, but the bullet never comes. He still needs me alive for whatever he's up to. My father might not give a fuck about me, but I'm still the heir to the Manarch Clan. He's all about appearances. If Cillian kills me, my father will have no choice but to kill him to maintain control of the clan, or he will have a civil war on his hands.

"Where have you been?" Oliver asks as I enter Eros.

"Last minute thing at the office." I should tell him about my encounter with Cillian, but I need him focused. He already looks like he is a second away from killing Cillian.

"Oh okay. Everything is pretty much done. I just need your signature in a few places."

"Let's go to the office."

We spend an hour going over paperwork and purchases. I'm not really listening, thinking about Cillian's not-so-subtle threat against Ava. It makes me rethink letting her live at the penthouse instead of the mansion. There are so many things that could go wrong. I can't control everything when we're not under the same roof. I'm a man who demands and needs control and not having her beside me twenty-four seven is throwing me of balance. How do I get her to leave the penthouse and come back home? There has to be something. Anything. I've given her too much say and somehow, I no longer have the last word.

"Viktor—" Oliver's tone is sharp and startles me.

"What?" I bark.

"Maybe we need to pick this up later, and you tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. It's been a long day, but everything looks great," I reassure him as I stand.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"The mansion?"

"Oliver, don't forget your fucking place. Call me if you absolutely need me." I leave my office, not wanting to hear whatever he might say. I need Ava.

When enter the penthouse, I find Ava in the kitchen talking with the chef.

"Whatever you make will be fine. I'm not picky."

"I might be," I tease, walking into the kitchen.

"Pay him no mind."

I pull her close and kiss her and don't stop until we are out of breath.

"Hello to you too. You're being rude." I pick her up and start walking. "Put me down." There's humor in her voice. I head for the guest room. "What are you doing?"

I slap her ass. "I'm going to show you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks as I open the door and walk in.

"I don't want to talk."

I lay her in bed and start kissing her. She doesn't argue, somehow knowing that I need to lose myself in her. This is my happy place, the one place I feel centered and in control. She's the only person besides my children I give a fuck about and I won't let anyone harm her, she's my everything. My life is a chessboard, and she's the queen, the most powerful piece on my board. If she only knew she has the power to destroy me. My life stopped being my own the minute she walked into the restaurant almost two years ago.