AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Anything else?” Eric asks, depositing two more whiskeys on the bar.
I turn from her. “You can take her wine.”
“I want the wine,” she says.
“Too fucking bad.”
Eric does as I ask.
Her eyes narrow and her anger and annoyance is right there, dark and hot, for anyone to see.
“Your father didn’t have the balls to come to me himself.” I ask softly, “Or are you meant to be an offering? Sweet and tender meat in a red dress?”
Her eyes widen with shock. “He doesn’t know I’m here.”
Interesting. I’ve kept the threats broad and lacking in direction. There’s no specific accusation. The attacks on the family have been orchestrated by Knights and those we trust enough to hire on a regular basis.
It’s that knife-edge balance I want.
Hanlon Shipping is mostly on the up-and-up. But the corrupt soft center, those illegal jobs they do, are what I’m interested in. Not the jobs per se, but the fact they do them. And I’ve got enough on who they ship things for, both cross-dock and on the seas. The land shipping is often overlooked by so many and it’s integral.
But I’m also not looking to point fingers at anyone. Just create unrest, a fictional villain. In this case the “who” doesn’t matter, just as long as I can slide into the family and win their trust.
That’s when I’ll find the hidden client list.
If it was me, I’d have that fucking list split up and coded so you’d need a key to put the pieces together. The client, UR Fantasies, wants information on a competitor. But the list and the client don’t really interest me, apart from giving me the opportunity to play out my revenge fantasies on someone else’s dime.
And inside a game.
Poor little Scarlett’s the prize, the key, and the sacrifice.
But Daddy must be more frightened than I thought, and that makes me wonder, at least a little, about what might be on the list that even the Knights don’t suspect.
“If you’re going to ignore me, then I’ll call your receptionist and make an appointment…” Scarlett stops, her low, melodious voice trailing off. “Do you have an office?”
I slowly smile.
“What do you do, anyway?” She bites her lip, frowning. “I know you run that place, and you’re not…” She stops again. Swallows. “You can help…”
She means I’m not mafia. She’s trying to avoid the word criminal. Because she knows that’s what James Malone is. A sleazy crime lord with the power to protect.
“Help with what?” I ask, aware of the slightest shift of her thighs on the chair, the way her fingers stay flat on the edge of the bar, the way they turn waxy white at the edges because she’s fighting herself not to clench.
“You know.”
“Enlighten me.”
She swallows again and grabs her drink and downs it, trying not to cough. I have to say I don’t need to fucking like her to respect a woman who’ll treat excellent single malt like she has zero fucks to give when we both know she’s got so, so many.
Again, the glance of burning dislike comes my way, the one that holds unwanted desire.
Desire she thinks she’s hidden. But I’m excellent at reading that, feeling the change in the air when a woman wants. She doesn’t have to like me. It’s that physical pull, the lick of want that’s almost knee-jerk.
And the thing is that unwanted little knee-jerk is perfection to a man like me.
It holds volumes.
With that, I can wrap a woman up, right before I tear her down to the bone and have her coming back for more.
