Chapter 150: Penthouse.

"Sit your ass down, Jeremiah."

He looks at me like I’ve just lost my fucking mind.

"She put her hands on our sister!"

"And I heard you the first time. Sit down, Jerry."

"Fuck!"

He drops back into his chair, dragging both hands through his hair. It’s a habit we share whenever frustration gets the better of us.

Isabella folds her arms, still standing beside my desk.

"Did you really cheat on her with that girl?"

I look at my sister and I desperately wish I could say no. I wish I could look her in the eyes and tell her that the woman at the hospital was lying, that she had no reason to approach Nerissa, that I had never given her a reason to believe she still had a place in my life.

But that isn’t the case.

"Yes."

Silence.

I watch both my siblings look at me with disgust. Neither of them bothers to hide it.

"That’s low, even for you, brother," Jeremiah says.

I clench my jaw but say nothing.

He’s right, and there’s nothing I can say that would make it better.

Isabella shakes her head, looking genuinely disappointed.

"I can’t believe you did that to her."

"Isabella..."

"No. Don’t." She raises a hand. "You married her, Lysander. Whether you like it or not, she’s your wife. And you brought that woman into your home?"

I look away.

Jeremiah stands, straightening his jacket.

"Come on Bella. Let me drive you home."

Isabella gives me one last disappointed look before following him out.

I watch as the door closes behind them.

I remain seated for several seconds, staring at the empty space where they’d been standing.

Fucking hell.

I know exactly what I’m supposed to do.

No one threatens my wife and certainly, no one harms my sister.

I reach for my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find the number I’m looking for.

She picks up on the first ring.

"Hi, baby."

I grimace at the endearment.

"I need you to meet me at the penthouse in an hour."

There’s a brief silence before she chuckles happily.

"For real?"

I close my eyes.

"Yeah."

"Okay, daddy. Whatever you want. I’m so happy you’ve called me after all this while. I’ve missed you you dearly....i’ll be there as soon as I can."

I end the call and toss my phone onto the desk.

One hour.....That’s all I need.

~~~~~~

I’m still sitting behind my desk when Fernando walks into my office.

He knocks twice before entering, a thick folder tucked beneath his arm.

"Don."

I look up from my phone. "What is it?"

"The shipment has a little issue. The sailors just called. They encountered some difficulty bringing it in."

I lean back in my chair.

"What difficulty?"

"Apparently, there’s been a problem with their route. They couldn’t continue as planned, so they’ve had to make arrangements to delay the delivery."

I glance at the clock on my desk.

It was supposed to arrive today.

"How long?"

"Another day or two, Don."

I stare at him.

"Another day or two?"

Fernando shifts his weight. "That’s what they said."

I rub my thumb against my lower lip, already feeling a headache coming on.

I have clients waiting on that shipment. Important clients. Men who have paid considerable amounts of money and expect their goods delivered when promised. These are not people I can casually call and tell them to exercise patience.

Some of them have businesses that depend on those deliveries. Others have enough money and influence to become a serious problem if they feel I’ve wasted their time.

I don’t disappoint my clients.....Not when I can help it.

"Have them make it a day," I tell him. "I want that shipment here tomorrow."

Fernando nods. "I’ll speak to the captain again and make sure they understand the urgency."

"Don’t just speak to him. Find out what the actual problem is. If there’s something delaying them, I want to know what it is before it becomes another fucking surprise."

"Understood, boss."

He turns to leave.

"Fernando."

He stops.

"Tomorrow. Not the day after."

"Yes, Don."

When the door closes behind him, I exhale and drag a hand down my face.

Fuck.

Just another thing I have to deal with.

Between the shipment, the woman who decided to threaten my wife, the state of my marriage, and the endless responsibilities that come with being Capo, I haven’t had a moment to myself.

I push my chair back and stand, reaching for my car keys on the desk.

Then I stop.

Right.

My car or what’s left of it. My wife bashed the fucking thing a few hours ago.

I pick up my phone and dial Fernando. He answers almost immediately.

"Yes, boss?"

"Come back to my office."

"Is something wrong?"

"Just come."

A few minutes later, the door opens again and Fernando walks in, looking slightly confused.

"Boss?"

"I need your car."

He blinks, for a second, he says nothing. Then the corner of his mouth lifts.

It’s subtle, but I catch it.

I know the bastard well enough to recognize when he’s laughing at me.

I narrow my eyes.

"You’re laughing at me."

His expression changes immediately. He even makes a show of wiping the smile off his face.

"No, boss."

I stare at him.

"Want me to drive you, orrrrr?"

I give him a flat look.

"No. Just give me your keys."

He reaches into his pocket and hands them over, still fighting the smile threatening to return.

I take them without another word.

We walk out of the office together, passing several employees who immediately straighten when they see us.

Fernando’s car is parked a few spaces away from mine.

I stop beside the Bentley and access the damage...The driver’s window is completely shattered. The rear windows are gone too, and the remaining glass is scattered across the seats. There are dents along the bodywork, scratches across the paint.

I stand there for a moment, looking at it.

My expensive, beautiful Bentley Continental GT, reduced to this by my wife.

Fernando stands beside me, wisely keeping his mouth shut.

"Have it fixed, will you?"

He steps closer to inspect the damage.

"I’m sure I can get it repaired, boss. I’ll contact our dealer and have them assess everything. I can’t promise it’ll be exactly as it was until they inspect the bodywork, but I’ll see what can be done."

"Good. I don’t want some half-assed job."

"Of course."

I glance at the shattered window again.

"Make sure they check the interior too. There’s probably glass everywhere."

"I’ll handle it."

"Thanks."

I gviv him a brief nod before walking toward the parking spaces.

Fernando follows me for a few steps.

"Have a good evening, Don."

I open the driver’s door and slide inside, close the door, and start the engine.

"Have a good evening too Fernando."

A few seconds later, I’m driving out of the compound, heading straight for the penthouse.