Chapter Ten
Mason
I prop my legs up on the desk. “We already finalized the details.”
Jennifer clears her throat and sits up straighter. “Yes, but we’re willing to make a more generous offer provided you agree to the new terms.”
I don’t like the constant back and forth, especially not where the Harrisons are concerned.
While they’ve come through with more men and weapons for every major location, they still haven’t signed our deal.
A fact that my father has been lording over me since he received the news.
For the past ten days, it’s been plaguing me, keeping me up at night, and leaving a bad taste in my mouth.
I’m a good judge of character. While I know what makes Jennifer and Jeremiah tick, it’s Jason Harrison I can’t get a read on.
Not being able to lay eyes on him is more infuriating than I realized it would be.
Especially when he’s constantly changing his mind and pulling the strings like there isn’t a war at our doorstep.
Maybe it’s time you pay Jason Harrison a visit, give him a little reminder of who he’s dealing with.
Except I know it’s not going to get me what I want, not a signature on the bottom line, and not the alliance we desperately need.
Fucking hell.
I knew scraping the bottom of the barrel would be difficult and humbling, but I had no idea it would be so tiring.
I’m tempted to solve this problem like I do most others, but I know my usual methods won’t work.
Not where the Harrisons are concerned.
Now that they finally have a seat at the big table, Jennifer and Jeremiah’s father, Jason Harrison, wants to milk it for what it’s worth. I want to shut this down, but I know I’d take advantage, too, if I were finally getting my moment in the sun.
Bastard knows we don’t have a choice but to let him flex his muscles.
I grunt and motion to Jennifer to continue.
“First of all,” she says, “we want to thank you for taking Jeremiah under your wing. We know how invaluable your time is.”
I mutter something and continue to stare at her.
“For this alliance to flourish, we feel like I should also be brought into the fold,” Jennifer continues. “Our family feels like learning the ins and outs of the club would be beneficial.”
I set my drink down. “You want to shadow someone at the club?”
It isn’t like Jennifer to want to be involved in the darker aspects of the business, but I have a feeling that where her father is concerned, she doesn’t have much of a choice.
Like me, she’s gritting her teeth and doing what needs to be done.
I can’t blame her for it.
Jennifer won’t meet my gaze. “Yes.”
I raise an eyebrow. “To what end?”
They’ve already got shares in every major Payne business, including the club, so I don’t understand their angle.
Not knowing their endgame doesn’t sit well with me.
Jennifer frowns. “Our father is still curious about how you do things.”
I push my chair back and stand. “Bullshit. Jason already has a seat at the table. I don’t get why he wants you on the inside, too.”
“Mason—”
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but I don’t like liars.”
A flash of irritation crosses Jennifer’s face. “It’s not a game, Mason. This is a serious offer.”
I fold my arms over my chest and study her. “I’ve already given you everything I can.”
“I know.”
“If I find out this is some kind of game…”
“It’s not.”
I want to take her at her word, especially given our history, but with everything on the line, I need to tread carefully.
There’s been too much instability, and too many betrayals that have left me reeling.
I can’t afford to give Jennifer Harrison too much benefit of the doubt, no matter how much I want to.
So, what are you going to do? Have Carlisle look into it with everything else you’ve got him doing?
I shove the thought away and reach for my drink. “What about the airstrip?”
“What about it?”
“Do we still have unfettered access?”
“Of course.”
I pour myself some whiskey and glance over at her, but she shakes her head. “I want access to every warehouse within the city limits, even the lesser-known ones.”
Jennifer smiles slowly. “I expected as much.”
“I’ll consider the new terms.”
Jennifer sags and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, I hand her a glass, and she downs the drink in one gulp. “Thanks.”
“You should get out while you still have the chance.”
Jennifer grips the glass tighter and studies me. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You do, but that window is closing. If you don’t move soon, you’ll be too far gone to get out. What’s worse, you won’t even want to.”
Jennifer sighs. “So, I guess the rumors are true. You really do care about someone.”
“Is that you asking, or your father’s heir?”
Jennifer uses her free hand to rub her face. “That’s a fair question. I’m not sure I know how to answer that.”
“You won’t be able to separate one from the other.”
Jennifer sinks into the nearest chair and stares up at me. “I never thought I’d see the day when you were telling me to get out.”
I shrug. “Things change.”
“People change,” Jennifer says softly. “From where I’m standing, it looks like you should take your own advice.”
I finish my drink and look back at her. “Maybe.”
I know there’s no way out for me until I’ve taken care of all my problems, including Oliver.
Walking away now would be a death sentence for London and me.
After the past few months, I’m sure my father is having us watched, and I wouldn’t put it past him to drag us back, kicking and screaming.
He won’t hesitate to use London against me. I hate the new set of chains I’ve forced her into, but there’s no use in trying to fight it.
From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew it would come to this.
And when she decided not to run, London signed her life away for good.
For better or worse, we’re in this together, and I’ll be damned if I take any of it lying down.
I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure London and I come out swinging.
Jennifer sets down her empty glass and stands up. She straightens out her clothes and lifts her gaze to mine. “You should take the deal. I’m telling you this as your friend, not as someone who stands to benefit. Things with the other families they’re… it’s bad, Mason.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I should go,” Jennifer says.
I sit back down behind my desk and turn my attention to the laptop. “You should.”
With a sigh, Jennifer leaves the office. As soon as she’s gone, I drum my fingers against the desk and focus on the numbers in front of me. Half an hour later, they’re still swimming in and out of focus, and I have a pounding headache.
I can’t think or see straight.
I hate being kept in the dark.
Is this really about the Harrisons, or is this about London keeping things from you? Because you know how this ends.
Sooner or later, I’m going to have to push London for her own good, but for now, I’m telling myself it doesn’t matter.
She’s allowed a certain amount of leniency for now.
Given everything else I’ve taken from her, it’s the least I can do.
That’s such bullshit. You’re just afraid that if you push her into telling you what she’s been up to, she’ll leave and never look back.
I’ve already decided I don’t want to live without London.
I don’t want to go back to what my life was before her, but giving up a modicum of control is a lot harder than I thought it would be.
I’m used to being in charge, the man who’s always ten steps ahead, and finding myself lagging is unsettling.
With a little more force than necessary, I shove my chair back and stand.
I leave the office, stride down the hallway, and stop a few feet away from the bar, letting my eyes sweep over the main floor.
There’s a cacophony of voices to my right, and when I turn to it, I see a group of women surrounding a senator whose tie is hanging askew.
Little by little, our clients are returning.
We’ve taken a serious hit, and the numbers are nowhere near where they should be, but there’s no other place in the city like us.
Nothing that offers the kind of high we do.
I’ve made sure of it.
Mercy will rise from the ashes, one way or another, and I’m not above getting my hands dirty to ensure it.
I step toward one of the VIP booths on the top floor. A burly man unclips the rope to let me through, and I unfasten my jacket. A waitress in a tight outfit wanders over with a glass of whiskey and a plate of nuts. She sets it down and saunters off, giving her hips a little extra sway.
I ignore her and reach for the glass, doing a double-take when I spot Oliver leaning against one of the walls with one hand fisted through his hair.
A few inches away, Katia is standing with her hands on her hips.
She makes a sweeping hand gesture, and even from where I’m sitting, I see Oliver’s expression tighten.
He leans forward to say something into her ear, and Katia stiffens.
Slowly, he leans away again, and they look at each other.
Fuck.
I know that look on Katia’s face, but I haven’t seen it since we were little.
With a frown, I watch the rest of the exchange, which ends when Katia shakes her head and walks away.
Oliver calls after her, and she ignores him.
I almost let her walk right past me, but at the last second, I sit up and yell after her.
The assassin stops to look at me. Then she walks back to me and curls her hands into fists at her side.
“Sit.”
“I’d rather not.”
I shoot her a pointed look. “Sit down, Katia.”
Katia takes a seat in the chair opposite me.
She sits with her back erect and her eyes focused on revealing any potential threats in the VIP area.
When she finally looks at me, there’s a gleam in her eyes I don’t recognize.
I cross my legs and study her under the dim lighting, with the smells of alcohol and expensive perfume lingering between us.
“Do I need to remind you of what happens to people who betray me?”
Katia stiffens. “No.”
“I saw you talking to Oliver,” I continue. “It didn’t look like you were exchanging pleasantries.”
“We weren’t.”
I sigh. “I’ve been wondering if it’s time for you to step back with everything that’s happening.”