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family. Way to forget your promise to yourself.
    He’d spent the night with his nemesis’s daughter. And he wanted to do it again. Even knowing who she was. A direct shot to the gut wouldn’t have been as effective in knocking the air out of his lungs.
    Keisha remained sitting behind her desk, a weary look drawing lines into her forehead.
    Dell Jacobs turned, his cane taking the brunt of his weight, puffed his narrow chest—as much as he could—and blocked Gabe’s view of Keisha. The old man was protective of his daughter. Gabe filed away the tidbit. He never knew when some bit of information would come in handy.
    “What are you doing here, Campos?” Dell demanded.
    “Watching your business implode.” He strode into the room, stopping next to a small replica of a classic car, something red and sporty with fins. It reminded him of spending the night in the auto shop with Keisha. A twinge of guilt made its way across his skin.
    “You’re not satisfied with trying to push me out of my own company anymore, huh?” The old man’s bravado came through loud and clear in both tone and the way he pushed up on his cane to make himself appear taller.
    “No.” Gabe picked up the car, and the pointed fin jabbed the center of his palm. “Just taking your company isn’t punishment enough.”
    Even breaking Jacobs Fine Furnishings into matchsticks wouldn’t satisfy Dell’s debt to Gabe’s family. It wouldn’t make up for the years his mother suffered in silence. It wouldn’t nullify the blood money Gabe had played with so carelessly never knowing where it had really come from and why. It wouldn’t absolve the sins of the slack-jawed man in front of him. But destroying the business Dell Jacobs built and loved would feel good. Really good. Of that he was absolutely confident. He had to be.
    “With all of your money, why are you so obsessed with Jacobs Fine Furnishings?” Keisha circled around her desk, her full hips swaying with each determined step. “The Gabe I met last night wouldn’t be.”
    Dell’s hair jerked around to his daughter. “What are you talking about?”
    “He spent the night at Fix ‘Er Up.”
    The old man spun around, the speed making him teeter on his unsteady feet. “I sure as hell had better have misheard you, Keisha Louise Jacobs.”
    “His car broke down on the highway.” She grabbed her father’s elbow, steadying him. “I couldn’t leave him out to freeze to death.”
    “Would’ve been fine with me.” The prickly bastard shrugged off his daughter’s touch.
    “I wouldn’t have expected any less from you, Mr. Jacobs, after what you did to my father,” Gabe said.
    Keisha rounded on Gabe, her normally expressive eyes deadened with ice-cold fury. She stomped over to him and jabbed her finger in his chest. “My dad is a small business owner in Salvation, Virginia. How in the hell could he hurt some fat daddy, Harbor City, rich dude like Cesar Campos?”
    “Cesar isn’t my father.” Gabe’s jaw nearly cracked from how hard he was gritting his teeth as he fought to keep his emotions from breaking the surface. Dell Jacobs didn’t deserve to see his pain, only his fury. He exhaled a slow breath and swept Keisha’s hand from his chest. “My father was Hector Hernandez, the man your dad killed.”

Chapter Six
    Every muscle in Keisha’s body quivered with barely restrained fury, and it took everything she had not to knee Gabe in the nuts so she could watch him crumple to the ground in a twisting heap. No one came into her office and called her dad a murderer. No one. Especially not Gabe Campos.
    “Have you lost your damn mind?” she bellowed loud enough that his hair should have moved.
    “No. I found out the truth about my father, and yours, a few months ago.” He answered her question, but his flinty blue eyes never left her father’s face. “Your secret’s out, old man.”
    “I never killed anyone.” Her dad half sat, half collapsed onto the chair, an ashy pallor