Even I wasn’t sure if I was bluffing. There was no way I could do this on my own, and even though I’d doubted her, I trusted Alisa more than I would trust anyone else I could hire next. On the other hand, she was in the habit of treating me like a kid—the same wide-eyed, overwhelmed, never-had-two-nickels-to-rub-together kid I’d been when I’d gotten here.
To take on Vincent Blake, I had to grow up.
“You’d drown without me,” Alisa told me. “And take an empire down with you.”
“So don’t make me do this without you,” I responded.
Fixing her gaze on me with almost frightening precision, Alisa gave a slight nod of her head. Oren cleared his throat.
I turned to face him. “Is this the part where you start talking about duct tape?”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Is this the part where you threaten my job?”
On the day that Tobias Hawthorne’s will had been read, I’d tried to tell Oren I didn’t need security. He’d calmly replied that I would need security for the rest of my life. It had never been a question of whether he would protect me.
“This isn’t just a job to you,” I told Oren, because I felt like I owed him that much. “It never has been.”
He’d told me months ago that he owed Tobias Hawthorne his life. The old man had given Oren a purpose, dragged him out of a very dark place.
His last request to my head of security had been that Oren protect me.
“I thought he’d done something noble,” Oren said quietly, “asking me to take care of you.”
Oren was my constant shadow. He’d heard Tobias Hawthorne’s message. He knew what my purpose was—and that had to have shed new light on his.
“Your boss asked you to run my security. Taking care of me…” My voice hitched. “That was all you.”
Oren gave me the briefest of smiles, then he allowed himself to fall back into bodyguard mode. “What’s the plan, boss?”
I retrieved the Blake family seal from my pocket. “This.” I let it fall into my palm and closed my fingers around it. “We’re going to Blake’s ranch.
I’m going to use this to get past the gates. And I’m going in alone.”
“I have a professional obligation to tell you that I don’t like this plan.”
I gave Oren a sympathetic look. “Would you like it more if I told you that I’ll be doing a press conference right outside his gates so that the whole world knows I’m inside?”
Vincent Blake couldn’t touch me with the paparazzi watching.
“You going to put a stop to this, Oren?” Nash ambled toward us, clearly having overheard our exchange. “Because if you don’t, I will.”
As if drawn by the chaos, Xander chose that moment to pop in, too.
“This doesn’t concern you,” I told Nash.
“Nice try, kid.” Nash’s tone never advertised the fact that he was pulling rank, but no matter how casual the delivery, it was always one hundred percent clear when that was what he was doing. “This ain’t happening.”
Nash didn’t care that I was eighteen, that I owned the House, that I wasn’t actually his sister, or that I would put up one hell of a fight if he tried to stop me.
“You can’t protect the four of us forever,” I told him.
“I can damn well try. You don’t want to test me on this one, darlin’。”
I glanced at Jameson, who was well-acquainted with the pitfalls of testing Nash. Jameson met my gaze, then glanced at Xander.