CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Griffin
T he air in this meeting room changes and years of instincts of shit going sideways smacks me in the face like a baseball bat.
Rand Miller’s cold gray eyes focus right on me while Donly makes a brief speech about the project, what it will mean for the city, and how our costs have been heavily scrutinized by an independent firm who have recommended us above other bidders.
Donly finishes and introduces the five members of the committee, including the chairman, who Kai assured me is in our pocket because he likes the taste of women he gets at Ares’ club.
The members are seated at a horizontal table several feet in front of us. Shane, Kai, and I are at a smaller table, facing them. A whiteboard has been set up behind us if we need to illustrate anything.
Members 1 and 2 ask us if we have a guarantor for the money we’ll be borrowing in writing. Kai took care of that, so he hands the signed guarantee to the chairman.
Member 3—the only female on the committee—thanks us for the office gender division consideration Ava had brought to our attention. We provided a report written by Ava that was certified by a UN gender rights protection committee.
Member 4 suggests we consider a different telecommunications contractor for the building’s fiber optic wiring. Kai scribbles on a pad: Brother-in-Law.
“Happy to look at that,” I say with a smile. But I’m not hiring anyone ridiculously corrupt.
“Mr. Miller, your turn,” Donly says, glowering his way.
Seated all the way on the right, he raps long fingers on the table in a taunting rhythm.
And says nothing.
“Mr. Miller?” Donly repeats, not hiding he’s annoyed.
With an evil smirk, Miller reaches into a leather briefcase at his feet, and my instincts set off alarm bells. I reach into my jacket for a gun that’s not there. Can’t bring firearms into public buildings.
Miller takes out a binder. A fat one.
“First of all, it’s Captain Miller of the United States Navy.” He gives me a look of hatred like I stopped him from advancing to Jump School.
It’s odd that he’s not wearing the uniform, though.
“I apologize, Captain Miller,” Donly says, adjusting his tie. “Your question?”
“I’d like to go over the costs, one by one.”
Donly gets to his feet. “Mr. Miller, we’ve done that. Read the independent study for a summary. If you didn’t have time to review—”
Miller shoots him a scathing look that shuts Donly up. “I found some irregularities, and I deserve an explanation.”
I shake my head at this blatant conflict of interest since his dad is on the budget committee. And he assaulted my wife. And I hit him with my gun. But I can’t admit to the latter two.
“I have another meeting in ten minutes,” Member 2 says.
“Same,” Member 4 adds.
“Then reschedule,” Miller barks.
The next hour is filled with mind-numbing, tedious, circular, and accusatory questions that are difficult, if not impossible to answer. A bead of sweat breaks out on Kai’s forehead while he takes notes and gives the same answer over and over.
We’ll get back to you on that.
The team members hiss at some of the ridiculous questions that often start with a five-minute monologue.
Finally, Donly grows a set and stands up. “That’s enough.”
I’m fucking furious he let it go on this long.
“Do not let Donly leave after this,” I whisper to Kai, who nods. “I have a lot to say. This is bullshit.”
Knowing we’re pissed at him, Donly manages to scurry away, claiming the mayor needs him. I can’t exactly hold him down. Miller rolls away in a wheelchair with squeaky wheels.
In the corridor, Kai says, “I’ll go stalk Donly and talk to him after this so-called meeting with the mayor.”
You do that.
I pull up my phone to text Ares with an update when that squeak rattles behind me. Turning around slowly, I put the phone away.
Rand Miller sits there with a stone-cold look on his face, masking fury behind his eyes.
Before I say anything, he blurts, “You remember me?”
“I remember you attacking a woman during SEAL training.”
“I left training in an ambulance. I was on life support.” A smile splits his lips. “Your wife did this to me. Obvious retribution for that fall we took on the platform.”
“Fall? You jumped her,” I say through strained teeth without thinking. “I saw you try to stick your hand down her pants.”
“So, you admit your wife, Ava Zervas, is the missing Lieutenant Hadleigh Castille?”
Fuck.
“Yeah, and I stopped you from assaulting my wife after you threatened to rape her.” I try to recover. “I also saw you get up and walk away.”
“I did.”
I stare at him, looking for other injuries. “You got my attention. How did my wife do this to you?”
Fuck, I hope this is a good story. Like witnessing an accident on the side of the road. I want smoke, bent metal, and blood!
“Hours later she steered our training raft right into an outcrop of sharp rocks. I fell overboard and hit my head.” Miller slaps his legs. “I’m fucking paralyzed.”
Ice shudders down my spine, remembering those rocks off the beach where they did raft drills. “I don’t believe she would have done that on purpose. She was a Navy lieutenant.”
The conversation weeks ago plays out in my head. I knew she was hiding something more about Miller.
“The vice admiral kept my prognosis classified. You know, because of my father.”
“How is your accident her fault?” I ask.
“She crashed our raft on purpose!”
Damn, I totally see Ava doing this on purpose. Was this what she was trying to tell me the day she saw him?
I want to start picking apart his story, but I won’t be sullied by his side which I’m sure is full of lies. “Even if she did, why did you wait until now to say something?”
“I didn’t know where she was. That cunt admiral, Cherry , got her into the CIA.”
“Your father must be so proud.” I shake my head. “Why wasn’t she arrested that day if she did this on purpose? Why didn’t you call her out?”
“I was unconscious and then put into a medically induced coma. I eventually made a complaint, but it went nowhere. No one else from that class would come forward to back me up about what she did.” He slaps his phone against his thigh that looks numb.
Poor bastard...
“Maybe no one came forward because it was an accident.” I want to get in his face, push him. But the guy’s in a fucking wheelchair. And his father has to vote to fund our project.
“That was then,” Miller says, smiling. “And now...I found my witnesses.”
“Let me guess. You bought a bunch of people willing to testify at a military tribunal?”
“Exactly.”
“There’s only one problem.” I get in his face. “Hadleigh Castille doesn’t exist.”
“I’ve got those records, too.”
“How?” I hide the terror racing through me. I know what Shane can do, others have those skills.
“Don’t worry about that.” Miller mockingly waves me off.
“You’re the one who should be worrying, mate.” I breathe on him. “You have no idea who you’re fucking with.”
“I sure do. You’re mafia. Corrupt. And vulnerable since you need this deal.”
“Okay, how much do you want?” I pat my chest for effect. “I don’t keep my checkbook on me.”
“I have all the money I need. And money means nothing to you, does it?” He takes out his phone. “You mafia slimeballs with your dirty billions.”
“Call the cops. Call the Feds,” I cackle but don’t flinch. “I dare you. You’ll be brought to our tunnel of death by nightfall.”
“Threats, I love it. Hadleigh Castille, the missing Navy lieutenant will be charged with attempted murder once I give her whereabouts to the JAG magistrate. Did you know we give DNA samples? She’ll be positively identified.”
Fucking Alexander Zervas , I curse the dead guy in my head.
“ What do you want? I don’t have all day.”
“I want your wife, Quinlan.”
“You think I’m handing her over to the Navy for some drummed-up charges by guys who need your daddy’s DOD spending approvals? Sorry.”
He grins. “I certainly don’t want to send her away to Leavenworth.”
I snarl at him. “Then what the fuck are you talking about?”
“My father is retiring, and I’m running for his senate seat.” He folds his hands on his lap. “My campaign advisor says the opposition running against me is fierce. I need a wife. I’ll take yours, thank you very much.”
I bark a laugh. “Good luck running with a Greek Mafia princess as a wife who is married to me .”
“I don’t want Ava,” he hisses back.
“Then who the hell are you talking about if—” As the question leaves my lips, I get it.
I see it.
No.
“I want Hadleigh,” Miller jeers at me. “She’s the perfect politician’s wife. Ex-Navy. SEAL-trained. Recipient of the CIA Intelligence Star. A hero, once I withdraw my complaint against her.”
Red fury clouds my vision. In my world, men don’t make those threats and survive. I want to strangle him, but there are too many witnesses.
“And if I don’t give her to you?”
He smiles. “You don’t get your funding, and the Naval Masters-at-Arms shows up at your door to arrest Hadleigh. They’ll charge her once her DNA is matched to naval medical records.”
Shane is going to kill me because I should have recorded Miller’s threats.
“Did you see all the names on the proposal?” I ask this dumbass.
“I have staff who read this rubbish.”
“You admit you’re making recommendations with no basis in fact.” I shake my head. “Get yourself a copy and look at the names on the proposal. You’re not just fucking with Quinlan Enterprises. You’re toying with Zervas & Company. Then make a call to Basil Christou and ask about the Zervas brothers. He’ll tell you the story of what those fucking psychopaths did to his father and all the capos. Ava’s brothers . Ava, Hadleigh, she’s the same person. Even if I gave her up, you have to ask Ares Zervas permission to marry her. Let’s see if you walk away with your tongue.”
I turn around, acting like this meant nothing. Like I’m not going to ring Ava’s neck when I get home for not telling me she tried to kill Miller in a raft exercise. I’ll have to give her a safe word. The way I plan to teach her a lesson goes so far beyond punishment.
I’m going to break her once and for all.
Then put her back together with a key I’m keeping close to the vest so she won’t be able to live without me.