Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“What the fuck is this?”
Richie leaned back, and he and Joe watched the three-minute-long video tour of my warehouse. I cataloged every weapon and showed close-ups of serial numbers and any other details he might find pertinent to his decision. As he watched, my gut churned. This was the moment of truth. He had to take the bait. This had to work. There wasn’t another way in.
The video ended, and Richie handed the phone back to me. He looked at Joe, who hadn’t said a word yet, and then gave me a look I couldn’t read.
“This is very impressive, Mr. Starr, but—” every muscle in my body seized tight, “—I’m not sure we can take on this much inventory right now.”
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. I knew the motherfucker could take on ten times what I was offering. “I understand. Unfortunately, it’s all or nothing.”
“Why’s that?” Richie asked, glaring at me, his thick brows knitted together.
I reached for the keys. “Like I said, I’m leaving next week, and I have to get this warehouse cleaned out ASAP. However, I do have other buyers interested,” I lied.
Richie’s nostrils flared, and I could sense him about to make an outburst. I pulled back my hand and held it up, steadying him. “It’s a new gig. I swear. You are my number one man. Let’s find a way to make this work.”
The gears turned in Dalton’s mind. I sat back, casually crossing an ankle to the opposite knee, and practically watched his thoughts churn. Finally, after a long minute, he looked over to face me. “All right. You got yourself a deal, Starr. But…before we make things official—” he snapped his fingers at his thug standing behind him, who promptly left the room. “You should know that this is more than just business. This is family. You fuck me over, and you’ve fucked us all. And my family don’t take that shit lightly.”
I gave a solemn nod. “Understood.”
Joe fixed me with a long stare before Richie tossed the keys to him. “Take care of this for me.” Joe nodded without saying a word, got up, grabbed the keys, and left. The guy still gave me the creeps. I wasn’t sure who this friend was, but I was glad he was gone.
“Is your friend coming back?” I asked Richie, wondering what the hell was going on. I turned at the sound of the door swinging open again. The other thug re-entered, followed by two blondes. One of them I recognized as Richie’s companion, Cinnamin, from my first visit to the club. The other was new and carrying a bottle of bourbon and two tumblers on a silver tray. She set the tray on the center table and poured two generous servings before handing them around.
Richie lifted his glass. “To family.”
“To family,” I echoed.
And just like that—I was in the fuckin’ mob.
“You want me to get you a piece of ass?” Richie offered, grinning over at me as a blonde—a different one from our first meeting—climbed into his lap. After the toast, the business portion of the evening was officially over. Richie’s guards and a few friends all entered the room, complete with more booze, half-naked women, and that strange, red-tinted light filled the space again. Richie nodded at the blonde, who was ready to straddle him there on the couch.
“Trish here has a friend who came to play. Or we could see if Elise’s hanging around. I seem to remember you liked her.”
I shook my head. I still hadn’t figured this place out. Where did these girls come from? Technically, it didn’t matter to me. But why were so many of them flocking to Richie and his crew? If they weren’t being paid, why were they so eager and willing to indulge the greasy mobster? Sure, I wasn’t a woman, but what the hell would they see in a guy like him? With his beer gut, stubby fingers, and a permanent cloud of cigar smoke that followed him around, it was hard to see the appeal. “Nah. I can do my own hunting.”
Richie roared with laughter, and everyone around him joined in. An obligatory chorus of chuckles. “Suit yourself, Starr.”
I bid them goodnight and left the comforts of the private room to return to the main lounge. Hypnotic beats pulsed through the place, and I noticed it was fairly empty tonight. Which struck me as odd since it was a Saturday night.
I wandered through, replaying the details of my brief meeting with Dalton. All the anxiety and build-up drained away, leaving me exhausted. I was more than ready to go back to my hotel room, get out of the damn suit I’d put on, and crack open a beer.
At the thought of having a beer, I glanced over to the bar, and my heart stopped in my chest. There she was. Tori. She was talking to the blonde owner. Piper? Sage? Paige? I recognized her from the night Richie had introduced me to Reed Parkston. She was his wife. Paige. Yes, that was it.