Black Collar Queen (Black Collar Syndicate Book 2) by An Latro Read Free Book Online Page B

that has proved to be true. As Seth looks around at the
familiar faces, he vows to be just that.
    He sees Emma watching
from the corner of the room. When he told her to set this up, what he wanted to
do, she’d been hopeful and nervous. She still is, but she hides the nerves
well.
    Every eye in the room is
on him, standing in the spotlight as he always has, yet representing so much
more. The tension is palpable, the anticipation and, yes, the fear. He smiles,
looks down at the wood for just a moment, then back into the faces of his
empire.
    His. Empire.
    He finds her in the
crowd and she smiles for him, a tiny affirmation.  
    “We have endured a very
savage time.” His voice amplifies over the crowd, and it is gentle—so very
gentle. “We have endured a lot of uncertainty. But we have endured. I understand if you are uneasy, and that's why I've
called for this meeting. I want you all to know where I stand. To this day,
there are things that I don't know, details I may never understand about the
way life was here while I was gone.   That's why, from this moment, all of you who are under this roof have a
clean rap. If you were my enemy, I grant you pardon.”
    He pauses for a moment
as the shock and outrage slingshot around the room. His expression never
changes as he lets his words sink into sense. In her corner, Emma isn’t
watching him. Her gaze is tracking the family, watching expressions. No one
notices her—no one ever has, and even now, she is hiding behind her demure
façade, and helping him by watching the family he is so adamant about
trusting.  
    “I hereby invoke the
Morgan family code so that our family can have a moment of reprieve. Time is
fast for people like us, and we have to be smart if we want to survive.
Sometimes this life can make you forget that you're human, but we can't afford
to forget that. I want this family to thrive, and I want to be able to eat lunch
without dodging bullets. I want that for everyone, not just myself. We were all
wronged by my uncle. I want to build us back to the glory of my father's
empire. I want you all to help me.”
    Somehow, in the face of
everyone, the honesty comes much easier than face-to-face with those for whom
he really cares. There's no place for an ounce of doubt in his declaration.
    “I ask you to be patient
within the chaos. It won't last forever. I will address any concerns. The
divisions will be restructured some—new heads will be appointed for the weapons
and drugs divisions. For whatever reason, the lines of communication have
broken down, and more than I want to know why, I want to fix them.”  
    Seth retrieves the glass
of champagne that someone – it had to be Emma—left for him. He raises it into
the spotlight, and says, “To the family, and regrowth.”
    For a pressing moment,
silence resounds. The words swish around the room like the coattails of their
many dead. His words are so optimistic, so reminiscent of his youth, yet
carried by an entirely more wise voice of a man. Then, the light begins to
fracture through the glasses that rise. Seth's vision blurs from the assault,
but it doesn't stop the smile that takes him.
    Someone in the back
yells, “Cheers.”
    Seth stares into his
champagne as he takes a drink. How many of them are just doing it because it's
expected? Only time can tell. Time and perhaps some sacrifice.  
     
     

             
    Chapter 8. Pish Posh. East Village. September 29 th .
     
    Pish
Posh Is A High-End lunch establishment nestled into a bank of town-houses-turned -businesses,
on a nondescript block of the East Village. The place caters to wealthy, busy
metro types – CEOs, top lawyers, the mayor on rare occasion. More importantly,
the place operates below the radar of most of the media, and has even installed
a back alley entrance for the more high-profile guests. It's never been Seth's
choice of settings, but the staff here is silent unless addressed, and it's
neutral.
    His nerves stir as