Page 167 of Hard Bargain

“All of them.”

Tonight had been set in motion long before this moment. Once a year, the most important men in Dominic’s operation gathered in the same room—part meeting, part tradition, part reminder of who they answered to.

Tonight, Dominic was going to walk into that room and change something fundamental.

“They won’t like it,” Knox said.

Dominic’s gaze met his in the mirror. “They don’t have to.”

He wasn’t bringing Knox into that room to stand in the background. He was going to put him in front of every man who mattered and make it clear exactly where Knox stood.

At his side. As his.

Men like the ones waiting downstairs lived and died by one thing—power. Who had it, who could take it, and who could hold it without anyone else daring to try. Being straight wasn’t simply assumed; it was woven into the very idea of what a man was supposed to be. Anything else was a flaw, a weakness, a mark against a man’s worth.

Tonight, Dominic was about to stand in front of them and make it clear that none of that bullshit was accepted here. That was the thing about Dominic. He didn’t reshape himself to fit the world around him. The world reshaped itself around him, or it broke trying.

* * *

Nearly fifty men filled the warehouse conference room. Every eye was on them as they stood at the head of a giant mahogany table. “Last thing,” Dominic said as he reached down, took Knox’s hand, and laced their fingers together. “From tonight forward, Knox Wolfe speaks with my authority. His word carries the same weight as mine in every room. You don’t question it. You don’t test it. You treat him the way you treat me.”

The room erupted in murmurs. Some men nodded in assent, while others exchanged glances that carried considerably less agreement. Knox felt the scrutiny crawl over his skin, but he kept his spine straight and his face calm. One man near the front scoffed. Loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Is there a problem?” Dominic asked.

The man hesitated; he knew better. They all did. He pushed anyway. “Just trying to understand,” he said, his gaze sliding over Knox with open dismissal. “You’re putting him on equal ground with us.”

Dominic’s head tilted. “No.”

Relief flickered across the man’s face.

“I’m placing him above you.”

The shift wasn’t subtle this time—voices broke through at once, chairs scraping, tempers showing through the cracks.

Dominic let it happen.

One of the older men leaned forward. “You’re serious about this?”

“Deadly,” Dominic said.

A laugh cut through the noise. Knox’s eyes found the source, a man halfway down the table, posture loose, seemingly untouched by the tension choking the room. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You expect us to show respect to some cock-hungry little faggot you decided to keep in your bed?”

The room held its breath.

Dominic moved. One second, his hands were empty. The next, his gun was up and the man’s head snapped back. His body slumped in the chair, slid sideways, and hit the floor with a sound that echoed louder than the gunshot.

Nobody moved.

Dominic looked at the body for exactly one second before looking back at the room. “Hendrix forgot where he stood. Let me be clear. I do not tolerate disloyalty. And I will never tolerate disrespect aimed at the man I claim. If you cannot abide by that, you will join Hendrix on the floor.”

Nobody breathed.

Dominic placed the gun on the table. “If this makes you uncomfortable, this is your one chance to leave. I won’t stop you.”

He let the silence expand until it felt painful. One by one, eyes lowered. Not a single man stood.

Dominic’s lips curved. He raised his voice for the room. “Tonight’s business is finished. Celebrate, pay your respects to the dead if you must, and remember who you answer to.”