Chapter 1 #2
It’s not like we haven’t had this conversation before. He’s covered for me more times than I deserve.
Yet… I’m tired of justifying myself.
I shrug. “Cormac Quinn invited me to discuss the deal. He’s hosting me in the Merged guest suite. The door is open.”
He raises his eyebrow, unimpressed. “So why are we here?”
I shrug. He will figure it out.
“Liam, what do you need from me?”
Finally, we get to the main program of the evening.
“I want to impress Cormac enough to make this deal happen.”
He groans and takes a sip of his wine. I’m washing the taste of this conversation down with a gin and tonic.
“So you want me to recommend you?”
“I want information. Something that would tip the scales.” I flex my fingers.
“You know they will consult me. Especially since we’re brothers.”
“Are you saying being your brother is a disadvantage?”
“Don’t play chess with me, Liam. I’m saying they value my opinion.”
“I know. What would help me when talking to Quinn and van den Linden?”
Since Xander left, Quinn and his partners have held the company. It’s Corm who is the deciding man, though.
“Look, Liam, I’ll help you. Not because you asked nicely.” He scoffs. “But because I know firsthand that escaping father’s control is a good thing.”
“How noble of you.”
“If you want to multiply your trust fund money through hard work, that’s your choice.”
Not my goal, but that doesn’t matter here. “How do I impress Quinn?”
“There isn’t much that man can’t achieve himself, but if I were to think of his so-called Achilles’ heel, it’s Norbert Pascal.”
“The jeweler?” I frown. “How does he play into the Merged business?”
Xander chuckles. “He doesn’t. It’s personal. Corm’s wife, Saar, loves Pascal’s work, but Pascal doesn’t take Corm’s call.”
I stare at him, waiting for the punchline. There is no way a man as powerful as Cormac Quinn would make a business decision based on… what? Getting a necklace for his wife?
“I can see you don’t understand.” Xander’s amusement makes me rethink whether this is the right path after all. “When you meet the one, you will see it differently.”
“I will just have to trust you on this one, because I’m not interested in having my agency taken away by anybody. That includes any gender. So if I get him a meeting with Pascal, he will sell me the shares?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What the fuck then, Xander?”
“You ask what can help you get the deal. Pascal would certainly sweeten your offer.”
“That is ridiculous.”
I hate that he might be right. I’m on my way to get you the meeting with Pascal. Interesting that Little Thunder is already proving useful.
“Or romantic.”
As if on cue, the universe—not that I believe in such nonsense—doubles down the romance angle, and everyone sighs around us.
A man three tables from us kneels, and the woman in front of him covers her mouth before she squeals an enthusiastic yes.
Kill. Me. Now.
Xander grins at the scene, and I wonder who kidnapped my brother and set me up with this impostor.
“You’re as daft as him since you met Cora,” I muse. “How is she, by the way?”
“Waiting for me at home, so if you don’t mind, I will take off.”
I nod and he leaves. We don’t hug. We don’t exchange pleasantries. Showing affection hasn’t been a part of our relationship for a long time. And I’m fine with that.
Talking to my brother for an hour has taken up my weekly quota of socializing.
“Would you like dessert?” The server wastes her cheerful smile on me.
“Just the bill,” I say, my attention returning to the lights on the top floors of the building across the street.
Somewhere over there, in those offices, is the person who holds the key to my future. And she seems far more volatile than I anticipated.
Something sharp cuts through me.
Interest.
Not welcome.
I haven’t cared about much in years, but fuck, the anticipation cuts through me like a blade.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling.
Because there is only one thing I care about.
Revenge.
I exit the restaurant and smile for the third time tonight. Across the street, the red dress sparkles in the dark.
She is on the move again. Little Thunder is trying to get Pascal to work with Quinn.
Opportunity.
My moment to get to know her better.
A car pulls to the curb, and she gets in. And somehow I luck out, because a couple is getting out of a taxi just as her car pulls into the traffic.
“I’m already booked,” the driver protests as I jump in.
“Follow that car. I will make it worthwhile for you.”
He blinks a few times, staring at me. I glance at the road and see her car stopped at a red light.
I reach into my pocket and give him five hundred-dollar bills. “You better not lose them.”
He nods and glides into the traffic.
The drive through the night leads into a residential neighborhood. My eyes are glued to the back bumper of her car the entire time.
By the time we stop, I have no idea where we are.
The street is lined with luxurious townhouses. Could she have Pascal’s home address?
I hope not. The last thing I want is to wait around for her. And then what? Buy the information from her?
I’m not above bribery, but I’d prefer not to start our acquaintance that way. Okay, maybe as a last resort I can attempt that.
The ridiculous idea gets resolved as soon as she rings the bell, and two suited men built like bulldogs step out.
This is not a private home, unless Pascal has security inspecting his visitors. But what do I know? This might be one of his eccentricities.
I pay the driver, observing the exchange at the door across the street. As soon as they let Little Thunder in, I decide to follow.
Flexing my fingers, I take the few stairs to the entrance, my heart beating just slightly faster.
I knock, and for the second time tonight, I’m wrong about what I expect.
After a few bribes, and the careless use of my last name, I find myself standing in the middle of a fucking sex club.
Silk mask. Low lights. The hum of bodies pressed too close.
I barely tolerate handshakes.
And yet I just bribed my way into a room full of masked strangers.
Following her was a mistake. The kind you don’t plan for and can’t undo once it’s made.
I should walk away.
I don’t.
It’s the worst idea I’ve had in ten years.
The first one that’s made me feel anything at all.
And that might be the most dangerous part.