Marcell’s POV.
“This is insane,” Petrov grumbles from the other side of the conference room.
We had been held hostage in this room. Listening to Shamus’s rage-centered ranting for the last ten minutes. Never arriving at a full point Shamus’s wheels spun as he tried to convince the men in the room to join him in his coup.
If I was any more of a man, I would have been warmed that Petrov, Costas, and Demarco wanted nothing to do with Shamus’s plan. But I knew that if the tables were turned. Given the time to construct their own plan that it would be them turning on me.
“So let me get this completely straight,” I spoke up louder. Pulling Shamus’s sudden shift in attention away from Petrov. “You legitimately want to mix your seed with Ricci blood?”
I didn’t miss the look of pure hatred coming from Penelope Ricci. Ignoring the impulse to feed into her. I glued my eyes to Shamus. Enjoying the wheels turning behind his eyes as he wasn’t getting the result, he so desired from me.