Chapter Twenty-Three
Mason
I let my eyes sweep the room, pausing to spare Michael Everett a brief look. “I trust we’ve all had a chance to think things through since the last time we met.”
Today will be different.
I will not let anyone in this room get under my skin, and I am a lot better prepared than I was on the docks.
This time my focus is solely on eliminating the problem.
“You mean since you showed up out of the blue and shot someone.” Michael gives me a dark look. “You realize he’s from one of the rising families. You’d better hope to fucking God you haven’t made an enemy of them.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Your concern is touching, but that’s my problem to worry about.”
I’ve already reached out to the family to make reparations.
Thankfully, once they heard my name, they were more than willing to throw their cousin under the bus.
It pays to have a name like ours.
Any family hoping to make something of themselves in the business knows not to mess with us. After spending an hour with them, they were the ones begging me not to retaliate. Luckily for them, I have bigger problems to worry about than a faceless worm making a deal behind my back.
I’m not sure why I thought inviting Michael and Lance to the club for a sit-down was a good idea, but now that they’re here, I can’t take it back.
It’s not like you have a lot of other options. You can’t meet on their turf again, or they might shoot you this time. At least you’re on your territory.
It’s a good place as any because it ensures we all stay in line. Even me.
Still, having to sneak them in the back door to avoid raising suspicion and needing to double security for the night is making me regret my decision, especially with a trigger-happy mayor still sniffing around, hoping to build his senate platform on our backs.
I won’t let that scrawny little guy undermine everything we’ve built. If it means setting aside my wounded pride for now, so be it.
It’s not the first time I’ve made decisions for the good of the family, and it won’t be the last.
This has gone on long enough, don’t you think? Either offer them the location or find another place that works.
But even with Katia and Carlisle scouring the city for another place, I have nothing to show.
We’ve already moved in on most of the prime locations in the city.
London’s dad’s diner is one of the few places we hadn’t been able to sink our teeth into, and when he approached us a year ago, I’d congratulated myself on finally being able to do what my father hadn’t.
Setting up shop in clean-cut neighborhoods is something few have attempted.
I know it will be worth the risk as soon as we have solid ground to build on.
I stand up, reach slowly for the gun in my holster, take it out, and set it on the table. Michael freezes, and I see him gripping the edges of the chair. Lance looks over his shoulder, and his security detail moves closer.
The air in the room is heavy.
“Would anyone care for a drink?” I offer them a meaningful smile and step back.
No one says anything as I walk over to the small table and reach for the decanter.
I feel their eyes on me briefly before they scan the empty room in the back of the club.
Slowly, Carlisle shifts closer, and I give him a subtle nod without looking directly at him.
He takes a small step back and melts into the shadows, joining Katia, who studies the room intently.
What the fuck are you doing, Payne? This is a bad idea.
I’ve been replaying Katia’s words in my head for the past few days.
They’ve been on my mind as I’ve pored over some of the books and spent hours in a corner of the club, watching and waiting.
Since that day at her childhood home, I’ve steered clear of London.
I have every intention of enjoying her again, but first, I need to make sure the Everetts and Fitzpatricks don’t screw me over.
After pouring a generous amount of whiskey, I carry the glasses over to them.
Michael’s head of security, a tall and imposing man, watches me carefully but doesn’t move.
When I place a hand on Lance’s shoulder, his head of security, a woman with short-cropped hair and veins in her neck, reaches for my wrist.
I shove a knife into her hand in one quick move, and she cries out. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me in my club. Do you understand?”
I turn to face her, and my eyes move from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. “I’m disappointed in your choice of company, Lance. I thought you’d hire someone smarter.”
Lance jumps to his feet and whispers something in her ear.
A heartbeat later, she rips a piece of fabric from her shirt and gingerly touches the knife. She hisses and then removes it, and blood drips steadily onto the floor. Studiously avoiding my gaze, she wraps the fabric around her hand and moves back to her position against the wall.
Everyone else in the room has gotten the message.
I nod to Carlisle, who hands me back the knife. Slowly, I run my fingers over the blade, smiling when I realize everyone is holding their breath.
Good.
These idiots need to learn not to cross me.
“She was just doing her job,” Lance replies without looking at me. “I’m sure you can understand the need for caution.”
I shrug and offer him another pat on the way past. “Of course, but in the future, I’d recommend you hire someone who knows how to show restraint.”
Lance nods curtly. “Of course. I apologize.”
I sit in my chair, casting a long glance around the room before setting the knife on the table in front of me, the blood on it gleaming in the dim lighting. “Cleaning out the blood stains is going to be a bitch.”
“I’ll be happy to have someone take care of it,” Lance offers. He lifts his head, and I can see he’s frustrated. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do as a gesture of good faith?”
I like having him grovel, especially on my turf.
I can tell neither of them wants to be here, but they aren’t the only ones who know how to pull strings.
One snap of my fingers, and I can detain them and not have to answer for it.
At least not without getting a few good punches in first.
With a sigh, I reach for my drink and take a sip. “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement should we need it. In the meantime, I’ve prepared a few properties for you to look at.”
Everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief.
For the rest of the meeting, I let Lance and Michael debate the merits of each location. Rounding up a few prime properties wasn’t hard, but I know none of them hold a candle to the one I had in mind. The glances Michael throws my way let me know he’s had the same thought, but he won’t voice it.
The only thing worse than brokering a deal behind my back is questioning me to my face.
A few hours later, we’re still not any closer to reaching an agreement, and tensions are at a boiling point. I gesture to Carlisle and whisper something in his ear. The door to the my office is thrown open, and I rise to my feet.
“Gentlemen, since it’s clear we won’t be able to come to an agreement just yet, I suggest you enjoy yourselves for the rest of the night. I have business to attend to.”
Michael is on his feet in an instant. “This is business, too.”
I hold Michael’s gaze and chuckle. “I’m well aware, but I find myself able to think better after a night of fun. Wouldn’t you agree?”
A muscle works in Michael’s jaw.
We look over at Lance, who is standing in the hallway with a scantily clad woman on either side.
For a long moment, I wonder if Michael is going to push it when he knows he won’t get anywhere without Lance’s support.
Reluctantly, Michael trudges outside. A few more women materialize out of nowhere and surround him.
I smile.
I let the door to my office click shut, and my smile drops. “Goddamn arrogant morons. Why the fuck can’t they just agree on something?”
This should’ve been taken care of by now, and I have half a mind to make the decision for them.
Don’t push it, Payne. You’ve already stepped on too many toes, and there’s only so much leeway your father will allow before he starts looking over your shoulder again.
A knock on the door has me slamming both hands against the desk. “What now?”
Katia pokes her head in, unfazed by the murderous gleam in my eyes. “I might have a lead on the mayor’s security detail.”
My eyes narrow. “Since when do you tell me about hypotheticals? I want results. We need a way to get through to the man in case he doesn’t see reason.”
Katia takes another step into the office and pauses. “I know.”
I pour a drink. “Fucking get me results, then. In the meantime, I want you to follow London’s father and see if there’s anything we can use to nullify the contract.”
A flash of surprise moves across her face. “Got it.”
I take a long drink, and it burns my throat. “I don’t appreciate the look on your face. Wipe it off before I do.”
Katia shifts from one foot to the other. “What look?”
“You know damn well what look I’m talking about. Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, Katia.”
Katia purses her lips. “You’ve never tried to find a loophole for a contract. In fact, I’ve often heard you brag about what the Payne word is worth.”
I clutch my glass and shoot her an angry look. “I hope you have a fucking point. I hate it when people waste my time.”
“You know the point I’m trying to make,” Katia replies calmly. “People are starting to talk, the cracks in the armor—”
I bang my glass down on the table, interrupting her. “I’d think very carefully before I finished that sentence.”
Katia lifts her chin. “My job is to protect you, even from yourself, and I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t tell you that you’re exposing yourself. It’s one thing to look for other locations. I can understand not wanting to nullify a contract. It’s bad for business, but that meeting…”
Her words hang between us, and my fingers itch to hit something.
I want to punch a wall.
Or Michael Everett’s face