Chapter 4
Ryker
“Ryker Elliot. How can I help you—”
Boom.
Just like that, this asshole meets my right fist. In that one move, I put all the anger that has been building up since I met with my father two days ago. So, George accepts my greeting and hits the floor with full force.
His hands cover already bleeding nose. Within seconds, blood seeps through his fingers, dripping onto white shirt, neck, and then the floor.
“Stop whining like a bitch. It’s annoying,” I taunt him.
Stepping over his writhing body, I enter the penthouse. My two brothers follow behind, Theo almost accidentally kicking the guy in the ribs.
Eli bends down and pulls him up by his shirt until George is standing straight. But whining continues.
None of us are impressed one bit.
“What the fuck?” he asks, confused.
The door slams shut behind us, and a bloodcurdling female scream rings out.
Out of reflex, I turn, and pull my gun out of the holster. From the corner of my eye, I see Eli doing the same thing, his barrel aimed at George. Mine is pointed at the woman. Meanwhile, Theo stands relaxed, smiling, with his hands in his pockets.
Psycho.
“Shut up!” My words reach the blonde, and when she sees the gun, scream dies in her throat. Panicked gaze jumps from me to the guys, then to her husband, then back to me.
“Honey, I’m fine,” George says to calm his woman down.
A wave of laughter rolls through Eli. A groan from behind me lets me know George took extra blow to the stomach.
“You’re fine.” Eli’s playful words come before another groan from George. “Well, maybe your pretty nose is a little broken, but you’ll look more like a man now. Right, buddy?”
The woman moves, no doubt wanting to help her husband. She takes a step when the click of my gun being unlocked stops her again.
“Don’t,” I growl in warning. “Lead the way to the living room, where we’ll all be more comfortable.”
I know the layout of the penthouse by heart, but I’m just a guest, after all. For now.
We enter the living room, which is glass-walled on two sides and has marble floors.
Replicas of Van Gogh and Caravaggio paintings hang on the walls.
A leather sofa stands in a half-circle in the middle, with a matching marble table in front of it.
There’s also a white oak chest of drawers and a few vintage details.
Totally not my style, but then again, I’m no expert. My friend has obviously pumped a lot of money into this place. Not his own money, by the way.
“Sit down.”
I watch, with something akin to affection, as George immediately obeys my command and stains his pristine white seat with blood.
“What’s all the fuss about?” From the stairs leading to the top floor, another woman’s voice calls out. Soon, someone is running down the wooden stairs, and another blond head appears.
A girl in her early twenties stops on the last step. She’s wearing short denim shorts and an oversized T-shirt with one shoulder exposed. Her blue eyes stare at us with disbelief.
“Well, hello, beautiful.” Eli turns on his charm.
Honestly, this guy is a man whore.
Theo walks around the table and sits down right next to George’s wife. He casually rests his hand on the back of the seat and puts one leg on the table.
“Who are you?” the girl asks, taking a step closer to her parents.
“Don’t be shy, baby doll. I don’t bite. Unless...”
A sigh escapes me because my brothers are definitely having too much fun given the business we’re here to conduct.
“I’m Mia, not a baby doll.” She snorts sidestepping him and sitting down on the edge of the couch.
“The whole fam’s here. Wonderful. Now, let’s get started.”
I holster my gun, but Eli keeps his in plain sight. From my jacket, I pull out the folded papers and toss them on the table. “Sign this,” I demand of George.
“What is it?” The confused look on his face says everything. His gaze roams between our faces, though none of us has the slightest intention of answering. Apparently, he can read, so I see no reason to.
Finally, wiping his right hand on his pants, he reaches for the document. The other hand still clutches his sore nose.
George spreads the papers and reads.
“You should consider making haste. I’m not saying I don’t have all day. Although that’s true, it would be rude of me to say so. But the more time passes, the more painful it will be to fix that lovely nose,” Eli chimes in.
He shifts his attention to Mia. Winking at her, he smiles broadly, like a vulture spotting carrion in the middle of the desert. The initial aversion in her eyes fades, replaced by a glimmer of curiosity.
“Is this some kind of joke? There’s no way I’m signing this!”
“You will sign it.” My voice is low and warning.
“I won’t sign it!”
“You will...” Theo urges with mock amusement as his hand slides from the seat back and falls on George’s wife’s shoulder.
The woman jumps at the gesture and gazes pleadingly at her husband.
I would bet my life that the air temperature just dropped a few degrees.
“You want me to sell you a penthouse worth five million for two million?” George blurts out.
“And yet he has a problem understanding what he reads…” I pinch the bridge of my nose, suppressing my irritation. “I’m not going to buy anything from you. You had your chances, and you blew them. You knew who to borrow money from, but you don’t know who to pay back?”
Questions start flying when George looks from one woman to the other.
“What the fuck?” That’s from innocent Mia.
“Money? What money?” This question comes from his wife.
“What have you done now? God, Dad...”
“Shut up! All of you!” It’s too much. There’s a moment of complete silence, and only then I continue, “George. I want us to be clear. I’m not asking you to give me my money back. You’ve had plenty of time to do that.”
When George notices his wife’s hurt and disbelief, he lowers his head like a whipped dog.
Eli’s smile widens, and Theo chuckles. I’m not kidding. He chuckles! And this guy has smiled maybe twice in his entire life.
My friends are psychopaths. But I love these bastards and would give my life for them.
“I’ll pay you back every penny. I promise, Ryker. It’s just a temporary setback,” George whines.
I stare. “You told me the same thing last time the debt was due. And the time before that. And you know what? I have no fucking idea where you got the belief I’m such a patient man. You think I’m going to let you screw me over like this?”
The scared look in this asshole’s eyes meets my irritated gaze.
“I have absolutely no intention of screwing anyone over. I know you’re not joking.” His hands shake with fear.
“But this apartment is worth five million,” moans George’s wife.
“If someone wants to sell, not if someone has to give money back. You fucked up, George. Eli… take Mia upstairs.”
At my words, a delighted Eli takes a step closer to the girl, who looks him over with curiosity. I’ll be honest here, this isn’t the first or second time she’s done this on our visit.
Mia gets up. Her joyful eyes tell me this situation is a blessing, not a curse, and certainly more than she ever hoped for. Of course, none of us would rape her, but we let them make their own assumptions.
“All right, all right! I’ll sign anything you want. Leave my family out of this. Fuck!”
Finally, he signs both copies of the document.
“You’re heartless,” his wife comments with a sad look.
“You’ve got no idea,” Theo whispers, gazing at me with satisfaction.
“You have two hours to pack your stuff and leave. The clock’s ticking. Whatever you don’t get to take is your loss. Tick tock, tick tock…”
Mia’s the first to head for the stairs. Passing Eli, she smiles provocatively. He let her take a few steps away, rub his hands and shouts, “Mia, baby doll, I’ll help you!” And with that, he runs after her upstairs.
“You psycho whore!”
He laughs in response to my words.
“Oh my God. Mia!” George’s wife follows them.
Last of all, George gets up from the couch. “It didn’t have to end this way. We could’ve worked it out.”
“Of course, it didn’t have to be this way. Now fuck off and get your things out of my apartment before none of you get out of here alive.”
The deadly look I give him shuts him up. He finally leaves the living room, and I sigh with satisfaction.
When I sit down on the couch, Theo’s still sprawled out, relaxed.
Reaching for the documents, I hand them to him. “Here.”
His eyebrows rise in surprise. “What’s this?”
Pushing the papers closer to him, I say, “It’s the purchase agreement for your new penthouse. It’s for you.”
“But I have an apartment. I need nothing fancier.”
“There may come a day when you finally decide you deserve something better than that matchbox-sized apartment. Or maybe not. I don’t care. This place is yours. Do with it what you wish.”
“Ryker…” Theo looks like he’s at a loss for words. “This… now you’re giving gifts worth millions?”
It’s worth it just to see his expression. It conveys surprise, disbelief, and something I can’t quite put my finger on. “Shut up. You’re my brother. If I want to give you a billion-dollar gift, that’s my call. Enjoy!”
I pat him on the shoulder. Most gestures make him uncomfortable, and there’re only a few he tolerates, like this one.
Putting my hands in my pants pockets, I head for the exit.
Its own rules run my world. It’s ruthless, dripping with blood and money, overflowing with power.
Many of the rules are really simple. The law of the jungle is the supreme law. Every day is a brutal fighting ground where the stronger or more powerful wins. A hierarchy exists, but a lonely and ruthless individual like me often disrupts it.
Another rule is that if you borrow something, give it back. If you ask for a favor, you owe someone unless you pay with the dollar sign.
Owen and I meet in the evening at his club. He’s one of us. A member of the Pact, though this is his private territory.