Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
His sobs are interwoven with his gasps for air.
“I have more important shit to do than to play Guess Who? with your ed pals,” blowing out smoke once more is proceeded by a sigh of irritation, “so for not immediately coming to me when you heard whispers around the office that they were up to shit, you earned this little love tap.” The cigar rests comfortably between my fingers as I continue. “Now, Special Agent Perrault, you’re going to tell what it is you know or the ‘special’ title you wear so proudly will be because you need a fucking cane to help your new-to-being-blind ass get around.”
An audible gulp is heard.
“Talk,” I command while moving the object towards my lips. “I don’t enjoy keeping my wife waiting.”
“They know the DeLucas have some of us on the payroll-”
“It would be idiotic to assume otherwise.”
“They don’t…they don’t know which ones so a small team of three was put together in what was supposed to be secret to do some…some…digging. Find some weakness. Something to exploit.”
“Tick-tock.”
“Your books are too clean-”
“Thank you.”
“But some of the recent fuck ups revolving around the Tremaine family have put you…your company on their radar.” He struggles to keep speaking around his injuries. “I-I-I I can’t prove it yet, but I think they’ve cut some sort of deal. I think…I think…,” his declining health has his speech dipping and my restraint wavering. Two sharp slaps to his jaw shake him back awake and the rest of his ramblings free. “I think they’re trying to…to…to trap you. They know they can’t get you for laundering, but if they can catch you on a delivery, they have…they have…they have their in.”
Fuck, I knew this family was more trouble than they were worth.
I should’ve killed them in the basement without a second thought; however, I suspected then what I know now.
They’re pieces in a much bigger game.
They work for me, therefore, if they go missing, my company and I get examined. Questioned. People prod where they don’t belong, and payouts grow in size to keep under the cement foundations where they belong. Having them in my company is a liability I cannot afford, yet cleaning them away is now one I can’t manage at the moment either. Not when they’re most likely being watched or tailed. Not without strategy and planning and a proper plan for disposal.
I hate the question lingering on the tip of my tongue, yet I remove my cigar to ask it anyway. “Is Elle involved?”
It takes an eternity for him to muster up enough energy to shake his head.
Gratitude over her innocence is what transposes into the mercy he desperately needs. “They’ll take you to medical. Paint some bullshit about you being mugged or in a car crash or something. You’ll live, but if you ever hesitate to report something beneficial again, I’ll chop off your balls and serve them to your widow in a casserole at your fucking wake.” Gripping him roughly by the chin I force his gaze to mine. “Am I understood, Special Agent Perrault, or do you need another love tap for an extended reminder?”
“Understood, DeLuca.”
I give the men who did the majority of the beating a nod to take him away and spin on my heels to resume the trek back to the casino night being hosted at the nearby hotel. About halfway there, I ash my smoke and instruct to my second, “I wanna know where The Three Fuckateers are at all times. I wanna know where they’re going. Where they’ve gone. Every single fucking person they talk to – down to the damn barista that spits in their coffee. I wanna know every fucking phone call they make. That they get. Texts. Voicemails. Emails. I want their gas mileage. Fuck, I wanna know how many times they took a shit. Everything and anything involving the Tremaines, from this point forward is to be traced, tracked, and given to me.”
“Yes, Boss.” Mickie glances around the empty path prior to asking. “What do you wanna do about the drops?”
“Delay them.”
His audible wince receives my glare. “Problem?”
“We have a shipment that needs to be moved out of the country to The Don. We can delay it but not for long without major complications.”
“I know that.” Stress over that fact has me shoving the cigar back between my lips. “I’ll handle it.”
He nods his understanding, and we finish our walk back to the hotel in silence.
Our arrival back inside occurs the same route we exited. I tuck my cigar back out of sight, grab a glass of whiskey from the open bar to wash away the smoke flavor in my mouth, and saunter towards Elle who is surprisingly right where I left her.
Her tiny, heeled foot is popped back into the air on another glee-filled squeak that indicates to me she’s won yet again. Seeing her toned leg bent in such a way creates a stir that I don’t bother ignoring despite the fact I probably should with the new information on hand. I press my stiff cock against the curve of her ass at the same time I push my lips beside her ear. “I wanna take those heels off with my teeth, Mrs. DeLuca…”