Chapter Three Creighton
Chapter Three
Creighton
“They’re here, Boss.” Levi pushed to my side, his gaze hooded, but I knew he was alarmed as he was focused on who was coming up the steps in my nightclub. Tristian West and Ashton Walden.
Best friends from childhood. Both came from Mafia families.
Their families used to run this city, along with a third Mafia family. The Worthing family. Then war happened between the Worthings and the other two families. People died. A lot of people died, and in the end, the best friends ran the city. They were the current kings of New York.
The entire place noted their arrival, moving aside to let the two heads pass through. One of my men led them up the stairs, and when he spotted me, I motioned to a booth in the corner. His head dipped down, a slight movement to let me know he understood.
I’d seen pictures and videos of both of these men, and I’d viewed each of them from a distance, but this was the closest I’d been to both.
I was good at reading people. The closer I could get to them in person, the better my read was.
I wasn’t normal. I’d been diagnosed with having psychopathic tendencies, and I agreed with that psychiatrist to a degree.
I didn’t feel what others felt. I always knew this growing up.
Not having normal feelings and emotions should’ve confused my ability to read into people.
It didn’t. It was the opposite. I was really good at identifying what others were experiencing, and I enjoyed assembling the puzzle of why they were feeling that way.
When West reached out for a meeting, it’s the reason I insisted they come to one of my establishments.
I wanted them here. Close. Slightly confused. It would be the best way for me to read them up close and personal. I was in their city, and I knew they did not want me here.
I was going to enjoy this meeting.
I began to go past Levi but paused to pat his chest. “I’m not only your boss, Levi. Don’t call me that again.”
He groaned, falling in line behind me.
I was tall, but he was even taller and bigger, lumbering almost like a giant.
I knew what a picture we both made as we led the way to where I wanted to have this meeting.
Levi once considered becoming a professional wrestler.
In the end, he decided to stay by my side.
He was one of our foster brothers, Blake’s and mine.
A few of our brothers were still with me, choosing to “work” for me instead of going legit how Miss Marcie wanted all of us to go.
She never had hope for me, recognizing a lost cause the second she saw me, but the rest—there’d been a struggle for power between us.
Miss Marcie ruled inside the house, and I ruled outside.
It was up to the others to make their own choice.
Some went to college, which was the route Blake chose to take. But some joined me.
Levi was one of those. Lassiter was another, who grew up as our neighbor, but because his dad was an abusive piece of shit, he mostly lived on Miss Marcie’s couch.
Blake.
Though I would never love anyone, even Blake, she was the closest to someone that I could love if I was going to be able to have that feeling. As for my brothers—I wouldn’t kill them as quickly as I would kill others.
Levi was aware of my sentiment.
The booth was in the far corner overlooking the club’s entrance.
It was set away from the rest of the club so other customers would be kept back.
The music was loud so no one could overhear us.
The lighting was also dark enough that no one could read our lips.
I liked that as well, but mostly I just liked sitting in odd corners where I had the vantage point.
I liked watching, but not being watched.
Blake would say that was a control issue.
Of course it was.
I said to Levi, “Blake moved into her new housing today. Go and see her. Make sure she’s okay where she is.”
He instantly began shaking his head. “No. No way, Creight.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. Most found this look from me unnerving.
It didn’t work on Levi. “I am not getting between the two of you.”
Tristian West and Ashton Walden had arrived, but Levi cut in front of them.
There were three sides to sit in the booth.
Levi shoved all the way to the inside of it.
“You go and see her yourself. Of the two of you, make no mistake—I’m more scared of Blake than you.
You’re on your own Bos—” He cut himself off, then corrected. “You’re on your own, Creight.”
I didn’t understand why I didn’t like my foster brother calling me Boss. I shouldn’t care, but I did. It made me want to shoot someone.
I motioned to his gun. “Give me that.” I didn’t have one with me because I had assured West that I wouldn’t be armed when I sat down with him and his best friend.
Of course, they knew my men would be and I knew they had sent their own men into the club earlier, all armed.
They would have other men outside as well, but at this moment, I wanted to kill someone.
Levi went still before inching farther away in the booth. “No. You just want to shoot someone because I almost called you Boss again. You can’t kill someone because you’re annoyed.”
My mouth curved down. “You’ve been hanging out with Blake too much.”
A faint grin showed on his face.
He was right, though. There was that uncomfortable shifting inside of me. Blake was the one to identify that idiosyncrasy of mine. She was right. In the past I would’ve shot two men by now from the first time Levi called me Boss.
But she made me realize that it was easier to tell him not to call me that label.
Though I was Levi’s boss.
Levi wasn’t going to get involved between us, but he also knew that I couldn’t go see her either. Blake and I had an agreement. I wasn’t supposed to have anything to do with her. Mostly.
I wasn’t supposed to visit her. I wasn’t supposed to interfere with her life except for the one condition that I had someone watching her. That was my stipulation. It was for her safety. Her part of the agreement was that she wouldn’t run from me.
I sent a text to one of my men who’d been instructed to keep eyes on her.
Me: Real time images.
Then I addressed the two heads that ran this city. “Thank you for coming to my nightclub.”
Tristian West scoffed, a half laugh, while Ashton Walden looked like he wanted to kill me then and there.
He probably did, but that was for later.
Tristian West looked like a smooth motherfucker.
He had the whole bit. High cheekbones. Square jaw.
Six four. A little over two hundred pounds and I’m sure most of that was muscle.
Hair slicked back like a lawyer. I’d seen other pictures where his hair was a little ruffled.
He looked better with it ruffled and when he looked out of control.
Though, of the two, Walden was the one who’d more likely snap.
He was similar in body to his best friend, except there was an extra fire to Walden. Dark hair. Dark eyes. He used to model, and yes, he was photogenic. I could see it now in person.
“You’re both very handsome.”
They faltered, shooting each other a confused glance.
I indicated the booth. “If you’ll have a seat? Before we get to business, please give your orders to my man. He’ll taste the drinks in front of you, if you think I’d consider poisoning you.”
“We’re not here to have drinks, Lane.” Walden growled. “This isn’t a friendly sit-down.”
“True. We’re in a war.” He was right, of course, but I’d hoped for some friendly banter before we got to the threats.
Tristian West cast a wary glance at his best friend, running a hand over his jaw before he moved into the booth first. Walden sat beside him. Both remained as close to the edge as possible.
I sat across from them.
Neither man was happy to be here, but we were still in the early stages of a war right now. This was the phase where they needed to pretend to play nice.
Neither asked for a drink.
I motioned for my man to leave. “Another person might be insulted. I offer you beverages and you refuse. Are my beverages not good enough for you?”
Ashton Walden expelled a harsh curse, jerking back in the seat.
“My eyes can’t roll as high as I’d like them because that’s the biggest bunch of bullshit I’ve ever heard.
You. Being insulted.” He jerked forward, the movement so abrupt and threatening that I saw Levi’s arm moving.
If I’d looked, I was sure that I would’ve seen his hand on his gun under the table.
“Yes.” I smiled at him. “West reached out on your behalf. He asked for a face-to-face meeting. I suggested my nightclub. Are we not here in one of my booths? Come now. There’s dancing. Drinking. Music. This is a place for friendship. Maybe we could be friends?”
Levi shook his head next to me.
I knew what was to come when Walden had this look. I’d studied him enough. He was arming himself, getting ready to strike. West knew this and placed his hand on his best friend’s arm. At his touch, Walden’s eyes closed. He went even more still.
I frowned. I couldn’t discern what was happening, so I asked, “Why are you so hostile toward me?”
West cursed, his head falling back.
Walden’s eyes opened to slits. “You’re fucking with me. Aren’t you? I can’t tell if you’re incredibly calculating or incredibly stupid. Which are you, Lane? We’re here because you’ve been making moves against us for a while.”
“No. You’re here because you helped someone try to hurt someone I care about.” I was referring to a whole situation that happened prior to this meeting, when Walden had a hand in helping someone else kidnap Blake.
“That’s not exactly how it went down.”
“No? Explain it to me then. Maybe I’ll understand it in a different way. You didn’t get one of Blake’s dorm-mates to befriend her? Lure her somewhere so that Jake Worthing could kidnap her?”
He didn’t say a word. He couldn’t because he couldn’t argue against me.