Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I sit back in my chair and stare at the man. He meets my gaze, the little fuck, confident in his assessment. He thinks he’s beyond my reach, that I won’t whisper his name to my soldiers and send them off to end his pathetic little life whenever it pleases me, but he’s wrong. Nobody is above me. Nobody is outside of my grasp. The only reason he’s still living is because I find him useful. Grady may be flexing his muscles now, but he’s smart and doesn’t give a fuck about morals, which is what I need from someone in his position. I show him my teeth in a rough smile.
“You’re right, Grady, nothing was given to me. I took what I have now. And you should think about exactly how I took it before you next open your sniveling little mouth.”
He shakes his head. “Threats won’t work, Mr. Kazan. Really, I’m sorry. We’ve had a good run, but it’s time for me and my people to find more solid ground.”
“I am the only solid ground in this fucking city,” I say, leaning forward to stare into his eyes. “You think the Italians are going to be around five years from now? My family is Chicago. The river’s in my fucking blood. You turn your back on me, and you’ll find yourself without a friend and all alone in my city sooner rather than later, and I will not feel pity when I extract everything I’ve always wanted from your pathetic, begging lips.”
Grady’s lawyer starts saying something about statutes and laws, and I tune him out, staring at Grady and thinking about all the ugly, vicious things I’m going to do, until a movement nearby catches my eye.
It’s a person standing in the entrance to the dining room.
I look over and my heart skips a beat. Lycus says something but I can’t hear him anymore. It’s like the table receded into the distance.
Camille’s standing there, staring at me.
I didn’t think I’d see her again. I assumed she’d take the money and hit the road. If she’s on the run, I figured she’d want to get the hell out of the city as soon as she could.
But there she is and now she’s walking toward me.
And she looks fucking pissed.
“Excuse me,” I say, interrupting the union lawyer as I push back my chair.
“What are you doing, Evander?” Grady asks, looking annoyed. “We’re not finished.”
I hold up a hand to silence him as Camille storms over.
The whole table stares at her, but she’s only got eyes for me.
The wad of cash I left for her is clutched in her right hand, unrolled and flopping as she waves it up and down.
She shakes it at me like she’s brandishing a pitchfork.
“You fucking son of a bitch,” she says through her teeth. “You absolute low-life piece of shit. I am not a goddamn whore!”
She throws the money at me, the bills fluttering in the air, some of them falling down to rest on the heads of the union bosses.
Chapter 6
Camille
Ah, crap. As soon as the money leaves my hand, I know I went too far.
When I woke up, I felt like heaven. For the first time in a very long time, I felt calm and happy and relaxed, with a pleasant ache between my legs. Yes, Evander was gone, but so what? I figured he’d cut and run and I knew he had an early meeting anyway.
I took a shower, gathered my things, and that was when I saw the cash.
Just sitting there on the nightstand, waiting for me.
No note, no comment. Nothing but money.
Like I was some hooker and he was paying me off.
Rage filled my chest. Rage unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Shame and disgust came next. I’d never, ever done something like that night before, and I was stupid enough to be happy about sleeping with a total stranger and doing some depraved and, frankly, really hot sex stuff with him, stuff I’d never, ever considered, not even during the heady early days with Christopher.
Only to find cash on the nightstand.
Like I was Evander’s whore.
Shame hit me so hard I nearly threw up. I wanted to rip my eyes out and turn back time so I could slap some sense into myself.
What the hell was I thinking? Why did I ever imagine a guy like Evander could possibly want to do something nice for me? That whole thing was a sick game, and he left money in the end.
At least I wasn’t cheap.
I never should’ve believed him. I know better than to get involved with flashy men that say all the right things, but I did it anyway.
And now I regret it.
I also regret throwing what looks like a few thousand dollars of cash at a bunch of strangers, but oh, well.