There are moments in a man's life when he realizes that his brilliant scheming has created problems he did not anticipate.
This was one of those moments.
I sat in the Boss Chair. The good leather recliner. The one piece of quality furniture in Onyx House that didn't smell like Jaime's protein shakes or Marco's questionable cooking experiments. I had claimed this throne through a combination of intimidation, bribery, and the simple fact that nobody else wanted to fight me for it while I was still recovering from nearly dying.
The problem was not the chair.
The problem was the woman sitting on my lap.
"Carmen." My voice came out flat. "There are other chairs."
