Chapter 12
twelve
Christian.
When I got to Omari's, the hostess guided me to a table that wasn’t near the main dining area. The restaurant was busy for a weekday afternoon, a testament to Elias's skill at blending upscale cuisine with Mediterranean fusion.
Ezekiel wasn’t here yet, so I checked my watch, ordered a bourbon, and surveyed the room. My week had been long as hell already and the last thing I needed was more complications.
"Devereaux in the flesh."
At the sound of my name, I looked up and found Balor Allen, better known as Trouble, standing beside my table with a takeout bag in hand.
"What’s up, Trouble?"
“Ain’t shit, chillin’. What’s up with you?”
“Waiting on Ez?”
He lifted the bag. "Dinner run. Keiris's favorite. She’s working late doing inventory so I stopped to pick up something for her."
I motioned toward the chair across from me. "You on a job too or just a food run?"
Trouble was a bounty hunter who made a point of using everyday shit to catch up with his marks. That was how he’d ended up meeting his wife. She was on a dinner date, he was on a hunt for the guy she was with.
"Just food today." He set the bag down and dropped into the chair. "But business is good, so I’m not complaining."
"This city is full of gotdamn criminals so I know for sure you stay busy."
Trouble laughed. "Says the man who's called me twice in the past year."
"But you’re not tracking me down though. Very different.”
He grinned and nodded. I used Balor several times to track people who were trying to stay off the grid. There weren’t many people who could hide from him, at least not in our city.
Trouble nodded and checked his watch. "Let me head out though. If the food is cold, I’ll be right back up here. Keiris don’t play about that shit."
I chuckled, knowing how he was when it came to her. "Happy wife."
His ass smiled big as hell. “Indeed. Hit me up if you need anything. I’ll holla at you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Trouble gave a two finger salute and headed for the door. As he left, Ezekiel walked in, nodding briefly to Trouble before making his way to my table.
He filled the seat Trouble had just vacated. "Traffic was a fucking nightmare. Half of downtown is blocked off for some art festival."
"You’re good. I haven’t been here long. What’s the deal?"
“They're pushing harder than usual."
"What did they say to you?"
"Same shit with new motivation. They've got 'investors' who are extremely interested in my land development projects." His jaw tightened. "Particularly the ones expanding east."
"What did you tell them?"
"That I don’t need any gotdamn investors. My financing is solid."
I nodded. We both knew what investors from The Collective really meant. Obligation, compromise. Things we both had been working to distance ourselves from when it came to them.
"What about you?" Ezekiel asked.
"Three calls this week about my casinos. How they could be more profitable with the right partners."
"This shit is never ending."
I leaned back. "Yeah. I did some digging. These investors they're pushing are all connected to the shit we've been trying to detach from."
Ezekiel's eyes narrowed. "How connected?"
"Deep as fuck. Money laundering at minimum but that’s damn sure not the worst of what they’re into. I’m really not trying to go down that road. After all that bullshit with Aja, it’s time for me to draw a clear, defined line."
"This shit is fucked up and nothing like it used to be. The political agendas aren’t the priority anymore. They’re getting deeper into the other stuff."
"Exactly."
The door to the private dining section opened and Kenton Parker, Julian Dexter, and Adrian McCantas walked in.
"I hope you’re ready to deal with this shit," Ezekiel muttered, straightening his posture.
We both stood as they approached and moved through the motions before I signaled the waiter for a round of drinks and everyone took their seats.
Once the drinks were on the table, Dexter began. “We appreciate you making time for us."
"We’re here but please understand this impromptu shit is done. Say whatever the fuck you need to even though I’ve already made my position clear." I kept my tone neutral, but make no mistake about it, they fully understood I wasn’t feeling this shit.
Dexter wasn’t feeling my disrespect, which was amusing. "Positions can change when the right incentives are involved."
"Our incentives have become much more attractive," McCantas added and I snorted at the thought. Money didn’t rule me but they assumed it did.
Ezekiel spoke up, damn near saying what I was thinking world for word. "Don’t nobody give a shit about your incentives. It’s not about the money."
"It's always about money," McCantas argued arrogantly. "The amounts we're discussing?—"
"Are irrelevant," I cut him off. "Ez and I aren’t hurting for shit. We don't need additional capital attached to the bullshit you’re trying to get us caught up in."
"This isn't just about capital. It's about expansion. Protection. Family." Parker’s tone was clipped as hell.
I smirked and looked right at him. "Let's be clear. Our businesses will remain independent. We've built them without your investors or incentives and we'll continue to grow them the same way."
The mood turned tense as hell.
"You're making a mistake,” Parker growled in irritation.
Ezekiel shrugged. "Then they’re our fucking mistakes."
"Your fathers understood the value of cooperation."
"Our fathers made choices that fit their agendas. We're making ours," I made clear. That was the problem. They wanted us to be our fathers because that worked for them. The manipulation was easier when greed was the driving force.
“We’ll table this for now,” Dexter stated dryly, not happy Ezekiel and I weren’t budging.
I chuckled and shrugged. “Yeah, you do that.”
They moved on and for the next hour they discussed surface level shit that could have waited for the annual meeting but that also didn’t mean they table a damn thing.
The subject of investors kept working its way into the conversation.
They pushed, we deflected. They hinted about new business ventures and we shut that shit down.
Eventually they got frustrated and ended the meeting.
"We'll revisit this conversation," McCantas said, looking like he was ready to square up.
"Do what the fuck you want, but again, our positions aren’t changing," Ezekiel replied, not bothering to hide his own irritation.
The rest of them got up and were on their way to the door but Parker hung back while Ezekiel spoke with everyone else about the next meeting time.
"If you won't entertain our casino proposal then maybe I’ll look into that waterfront property instead. I hear it's quite promising."
My eyes narrowed on him, and in two steps, I had him backed against the wall but kept my voice low enough that only he could hear me.
"You fuck with her, you fuck with me. There are only a few people who you will not cross lines with.
My family is at the top of that list, which you know, but you can now add Scotlyn.
Unless you want to see a side of me my father never had, I suggest you forget her name and anything else you think you know about her. "
Parker’s eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening me, Devereaux?"
I didn't respond. Instead, I stepped back, straightened my jacket, and gave him an arrogant but deadly smile.
"Give my regards to your wife, Parker. How is she these days?"
His face dropped. Fuck with mine, I’ll fuck with yours.
Message received.
Without another word I headed for the exit, tossing acknowledgment to Ezekiel when I passed. The look he gave me said he would follow up later.
The Collective was a gotdamn problem, but they had always been one. I damn sure wasn’t feeling their mention of Scotlyn. There was no way they should know about her, which meant someone was talking, or they were watching me more than I gave them credit for and neither was good.
The house felt different as I walked in.
Everything looked the same but knowing she was here shifted something in me.
I hadn’t decided if that was good or bad.
Even before Cress married Elias, she traveled constantly with dance and had her apartment in the city, so she was never here.
Jona spent more time with her friends than she did at the house and now she was on a gotdamn world tour; so it had been years since anyone other than staff spent time here.
My wife hadn’t given a fuck about me; so it had been a long time since I came home expecting to find someone waiting for me.
But I knew she was…
I pushed the thought to the back of my mind because this wasn't permanent. Thirty days and no attachments.
After dropping my keys on the entryway table, I headed toward my wing of the house, curious to know if she'd settled in. No matter how many times I told myself it didn’t matter, I liked the idea of Scotlyn comfortable in my space.
When I approached her room, Scotlyn’s voice was the first thing I noticed.
Her door was partially open so I nudged it and paused in the doorway.
The bags Miles dropped off last night were on the bed and she was dancing around the room with AirPods in, completely unaware that I was watching.
She lifted armfuls of clothes from a garment bag and disappeared into the closet, coming back out empty handed to repeat the process.
Her moves on the way back to the bed were a little more defined and highly fucking amusing.
She sang some of the words while she worked her hips, hitting notes with confidence but the shit was terrible. I leaned against the doorframe, enjoying the performance with no urgency to disrupt her vibe.
When she grabbed one of the bedposts and threw her leg up, dropping a foot on the edge of the mattress, my dick joined the conversation. I was not mad at the way she rocked her hips with her head thrown back, completely unguarded.
Fuck.
Something about the way she moved was more arousing than seeing the women at Chapter House in less doing more and maybe that had to do with this not being for show or attention.
She was just in her own zone, and as much as I was enjoying the moment, I wanted her attention on me.
I crossed the room and placed my hands on her hips from behind.
She screamed and reacted quickly as hell. Her fist connected with my jaw before I could get out of the way.
"Shit!" I stumbled back and smiled, grabbing my face.
Scotlyn yanked out an AirPod and her eyes went wide. "Christian! What the hell?"
I rubbed my jaw, too damn impressed by the precision and power behind the punch to be upset. "Nice right hook."
"You can't just sneak up on people like that!" She glared at me, still breathing hard.
"Noted. I didn’t know you moonlighted as a boxer." I worked my jaw back and forth.
"Self-defense classes and that’s your fault."
"Nah, the blame is all yours. You shouldn’t have been dancing like that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I wasn't dancing."
"What would you call that shit you were doing with the bedpost?"
"Organizing. How long were you watching me?"
"Long enough to hope you’ll let me get a private show with a lot less clothes involved and without that right hook."
"I'm not a dancer, so no."
"I disagree.”
"Did you need something? I’m kinda busy?" She motioned to the stack of clothes on the bed.
"I picked up dinner on the way home. Come eat with me."
"I'll be down in five minutes."
I nodded and backed out the door. "Take your time. I need a minute to recover from the assault. Might have to ice this." She grinned and shot me a bird.
"Next time announce yourself like a normal person."
"And miss the performance? Nah, I can take the good with the bad." I winked and she grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at me. I caught it and tossed it back.
"Five minutes. I’m starving.”
"For food?"
“And other things.”
I left her room with a hard dick, knowing this arrangement was going to test every ounce of restraint I possessed.