Chapter 40
Forty
JULIAN
“I hate this building,” Natasha whispers next to me. We’re in the elevator, headed up to the penthouse for family dinner.
I fold her into my arms and press my lips to the top of her head.
“This building will never hurt you. There’s nothing here that can harm you, Angel. You’re with me.”
“I know.” She clears her throat and steps away when the doors open. “It just gives me the creeps.”
“Someday, I’ll talk you into a tour of every inch of that club. I’ll show you why it’s safe and why you’d love it.”
I press my lips to her ear.
“I know intimately how much you like to watch, Angel. We can explore all of your fantasies down there.” I kiss her temple and then stride to the door with her hand in mine. “But for tonight, we’re in the penthouse.”
Her eyes are bright, and her lips are parted as she stares up at me.
She doesn’t hate the idea of a private tour.
I move that up on my to-do list.
Not bothering to knock, I rest my palm on the security plate and then push inside. Jack won’t be joining us. He and Spider are currently working on a project together.
In fact, he should be checking in with me soon.
We find everyone else in the kitchen, hovering around the island, taking bites of what looks like bruschetta.
“Hey!” Scarlett wraps her arm around Natasha’s shoulders and gives her a squeeze. “You look fab. LA was fun?”
“It was great,” Natasha confirms and smiles up at me. “How are you guys? What did I miss while I was gone?”
“Well, one of the guests got a little handsy the other night, and when Luke saw the dude with his hand on my ass, he took him downstairs and cut it off.”
Natasha chokes on the sip of wine I just handed her and then stares at Luke, who’s smiling smugly.
“Good job,” I say to him, and he nods at me.
“You cut off his hand?” Natasha demands.
“There’s a strict no-touching-Scarlett policy,” Luke says with a shrug.
“Like, at the club in general, or is that a Luke rule?” Natasha asks.
“Both.” He pops an olive in his mouth. “Fucker’s lucky that his hand’s the only thing he lost.”
She frowns up at me. “Would you—”
“He’d no longer be breathing, Angel.” I kiss her temple, and Lulu sighs as she wipes her hands on a towel.
“You two are adorable,” she says with a smile.
I’ve never been referred to as adorable a day in my life.
Rome checks his phone, and then looks up at us.
“Guys, I need you to join me downstairs.” He kisses his wife’s temple. “We’ll be back before dinner’s ready, Firefly.”
Natasha goes very still before her face turns up to me. She’s suddenly fucking pale. “You’re going to the club?”
I hate the uncertainty in her voice.
I smile down at her and then lean in to rest my lips near her ear. “No, baby. I’ll never set foot in there without you again. You don’t need to worry about that.”
When I pull back to see her face, she doesn’t look convinced.
“If you’re not going to the club, where are you going?”
The room has grown silent, but I only have eyes for my Angel.
“Do you really want to know what this is, Natasha? I won’t lie to you, but—”
“No,” she interrupts and presses her lips together. “I don’t think I want to know. But it’s not the club.”
“It’s business,” Rome replies before I can.
“Enjoy your friends, sweetheart.” I kiss her forehead and then join the others, headed to the elevator.
“Your woman breaks the heart I don’t even have,” Mateo says, shaking his head.
“She’s doing much better, but the club is a trigger,” I reply, and Rome growls deep in his throat.
“I fucking hate that,” he says.
“I’m going to come up with a way to change her perspective,” I tell him. “She won’t be afraid of it forever.”
“How’s Elliott doing?” Mateo asks.
“He hasn’t been in my casino,” Carson says.
“He’s doing well.” Frankly, I’m surprised by the improvement my son has made. I’m proud of him. “If he keeps his shit together for a few more months, I’ll bring him in as a foot soldier. What’s going on in the cell, Rome?”
“Do we get to kill someone?” Carson asks, speaking for the first time. I can tell that he’s in one of his moods. If he’s not joking and flirting with our girls, that means his dark side is itching to come out. And that’s always bad news for someone and their will to live.
“Potentially,” Rome says as we file out of the elevator and walk to the door at the end of the hall. Rome’s men step out of the way, and we file inside the cell.
“Mendoza,” Mateo says in surprise. “Looks like we do get to kill someone, brother.”
Carson smiles.
It’s not a happy smile.
It’s a I’m going to pull his lungs out of his throat smile.
Correction: It’s a happy smile for Carson.
“You’re blowing this out of proportion.” Mendoza looks clean and relaxed, as if he were watching Netflix in the comfort of his own living room. There’s no blood. He’s lounging in a metal chair, one leg crossed over the other, checking his manicure.
I glance at Rome and lift my eyebrow.
Rome shrugs.
“You were told to stay out of our city,” Rome tells the head of the cartel. “And that if you ever did business here again, you wouldn’t leave alive.”
“I wasn’t doing business,” the man says calmly. “I was simply gambling.”
“At the Four Leaf,” Luke says. “Did you forget that we’re allies with the Irish, you smug cunt?”
“No, you’re not,” Mendoza says, his bravado starting to slip.
“I guess Mendoza says who we are and aren’t friends with, boys.
” Mateo pushes his hands in his pockets and rolls back on his heels.
“Maybe we should have him on staff. He could be the secretary, so we’re sure to remember who’s who.
Wait, that won’t work. I like to fuck secretaries, and this piece of shit definitely isn’t my type. ”
“Why are you in Vegas,” Rome asks as he strides calmly to the tool bench and picks up a throwing star.
Rome has the best fucking accuracy of any of us, no matter the weapon. Sniper rifles, knives, handguns—you name it, and he’ll hit the bull’s-eye.
“None of your business,” Mendoza says.
Rome smirks and throws the star, hitting Mendoza in the upper thigh, right by his dick.
“Good shot,” I say with a nod as Mendoza screams.
Ten minutes and eight throwing stars later, Mendoza holds his hand up.
“I’m not doing business, that’s the truth. I was just supposed to gather intel. Damien said it would be worth it.”
In less than one second, Carson goes from leaning casually against the wall to hovering over Mendoza with his hands around his neck.
“Say that again.”
“He can’t breathe,” I remind my brother. “Don’t kill him yet, we’re just getting to the good part.”
Carson’s face slowly turns to me, and I shake my head.
“Not. Yet.”
He loosens his hold and Mendoza takes a breath.
“Who are you spying on?” Mateo asks.
“You,” Mendoza replies without a beat. “All of you. That’s all I know. I gather whatever information I can and send it to an email address on the dark web, and I get paid.”
“I want to know what you’ve told him,” Rome says. “What do you think you know, Mendoza?”
“Mostly that Julian has a pretty new wife.”
“Now,” I say, and Carson tightens his hands again, squeezing until the man goes purple and the life drains out of his body.
“He might have had more information,” Mateo says casually.
“I’ll hack into his shit and find out exactly what he has. But I don’t buy for a second that he’s doing it for Damien. He said that name to get a rise out of Carson.”
“Worked,” Rome says.
“Did the Irish call to tell you Mendoza had been at the Four Leaf?” I ask.
“Yeah, this morning. My men found Mendoza in a room off the strip and brought him here. His belongings are in the room next door.”
“I’ll only need his electronics,” I reply. “The rest can go with him to the graveyard.”
We make our way back upstairs for dinner. When we walk into the penthouse, we can hear the girls laughing in the kitchen.
Christ, I love my wife’s laugh.
“They were doing it out in the open,” Natasha says, and I pause. We all stop before Natasha can see that we’re here.
“You’d enjoy the club,” Scarlett assures my girl. “If that did it for you, girl, you’re missing out.”
I nod and we walk into the kitchen, catching their attention.
“I’m hungry,” Mateo says.
“Dinner’s ready,” Lulu replies with a grin as Rome wraps his arms around her from behind.
“We’re going to a show,” Natasha tells me. “Just us girls, tomorrow night.”
“We’ll have guards,” Lulu assures me.
“Your detail is invited, but we aren’t?” Rome asks.
“Well, the detail isn’t technically invited, either, but you won’t let us go without them.”
“It’ll be fun,” Natasha says, smiling up at me and pats me on the chest. I capture her hand in mine and press it over my heart. “You’ll live without me for one evening.”
I love that she’s not asking, she’s telling me. She’s come such a long way since we got married. She’s so much stronger, so sure of herself.
It’s a fucking turn-on.
Of course, everything about this woman drives me out of my mind.
“I’ll try, Angel.”