Olivia sharing that she might be one of the few people in the world who’d understand the struggle he’d had coming to terms with his relationship with his brother and handing him the shock of her softheartedness when she thought his father died were unexpected things he knew he had to guard against.

So Nick had needed to step back.

When this was over, when he’d earned her trust and used it to gather enough information to bring down the House of Shade, the best case scenario for her was that he’d walk away and she’d remain standing. There was no doubt she’d hate him, but she’d remain standing.

Another scenario, when he had what he needed and made his move, she went down with her father, not literally, as in taking a bullet, but figuratively, as in enjoying a long stay in a prison cell.

The worst case scenario, she’d shield her father in a way where she did go down. Literally.

He already knew from what he got from her he’d work for the first.

But he had to be all in with his plan, so if she worked against him on that, he’d have to roll with it.

And take her down.

He’d given her two nights to back off and get her shit together, through doing that giving it to himself.

Now it was time to go back in.

He was impatient to do that.

In order to control the feeling, he also had to admit to himself that he was impatient to see her again.

This meant they needed to fuck, and a lot, so he could work that feeling out.

Eyes to the scene in front of him, a guy getting it from three girls, something that didn’t hold Nick’s attention (he’d prefer the guy being absent and just the three girls), knowing she was going to be late and that would last at least another quarter of an hour, when the call came in from his boy, he took it.

So he was surprised, in the middle of it, when he heard the door open behind him.

He had to roll with it.

Regardless, in order to gain her trust, he had to give her the impression she had his.

Therefore, even as he cast his eyes over his shoulder and watched her walk his way carrying a green drink in her hand, wearing a slim-fitting, expensive-looking turtleneck, one of her signature skintight skirts (just seeing the folds at her sex making his dick start to get hard) and another signature—her pumps, he kept talking.

“Call the boys. Three more to come to you. Set two men at the perimeter, another man inside. And tell Lee if this shit goes south, he owes me another fuckin’ marker. Where he finds these women we gotta keep safe, I don’t know. It’s starting to be a fuckin’ joke.”