Antonio Miles (Kiss of Death MC #17)

Prologue

Antonio Miles

The Miles family estate sat thirty miles outside of Nashville, a sprawling colonial with white columns and black shutters that had been in my father’s family since before the Civil War.

The private room where we brought Judge Isaiah Marlin had no recording equipment and no witnesses beyond the two of us.

My father had designed this room to be a space where business could be conducted without fear of electronic surveillance or prying eyes.

Soundproof walls, a single tinted window reinforced with bulletproof glass, and the door locked with a key that existed only in Seth’s pocket and the safe in my office.

The room itself was spare and deliberate. A large, polished table sat in the center, its surface gleaming. Two chairs faced each other across its width. A bulletproof briefcase lay open on the surface. The contents fanned out in neat rows was the only disruption to the room’s careful geometry.

Marlin sat in one chair, his posture rigid despite the exhaustion evident in the lines around his mouth.

His cuff links were gone, his collar open at the throat.

A bruise yellowed along his jaw where one of my men had caught him with an elbow during the estate raid.

He’d stopped asking for his lawyer an hour ago.

My father stood near the window, hands clasped behind his back, saying nothing.

Even in his sixties, he carried himself with the easy confidence of a man who knew his word was law and that law was absolute.

His salt-and-pepper beard was trimmed close to his jaw, his eyes calm as he watched the afternoon light slant across the hardwood floor.

He’d let me take the lead on this one. As a rule, we worked together as an almost symbiotic unit.

My father might be a caring person, but Seth Miles was ruthless and demanded obedience and perfection.

From everyone, but most especially his son.

I might be in my prime, but Seth was more than my match in any situation.

I wasn’t too proud to admit he could take me.

I sat across from Marlin, my posture relaxed but alert. “The Vossberg account shows six deposits over the last eight months.” I slid a document across the table. “All matching special handling purchases from Iron’s network.”

Marlin’s gaze dropped to the paper but he didn’t touch it. “As I’ve explained, I never purchased anyone. I provided a location for transactions. A neutral ground.”

“A neutral ground,” I repeated, keeping my voice bland like I could give a damn when I really wanted to skin the guy alive just to hear him fucking squeal.

“With six-figure deposits into an account under your daughter’s name.

” I placed another document beside the first. “An account your ex-wife knows nothing about.”

Marlin’s jaw tightened. “Those are business investments. Nothing to do with --”

“The trust that owns the property on Lake Radnor,” I cut in, placing a third document on the table. “Where you kept the girls between transactions.”

A flush crept up Marlin’s neck. “That’s not -- you can’t prove --”

“The coded buyer logs,” I continued, sliding another page forward. “The transport manifests. The payment records.” Each document landed with a soft whisper of paper against wood. “The security footage from the club where the Garrison girl was processed.”

Marlin’s face slackened with each new page, the color draining from his cheeks. “This is circumstantial at best. A judge would never --”

“You’re not in court.” My voice remained even. “You’re in the house of Seth Miles. And in this house, we make the laws.” I tapped the edge of the closest document. “These are decidedly not inside our laws.”

Marlin leaned forward, his voice dropping to a cajoling whine. “Look, I understand you have a business to protect. I can help with that. I have connections, favors I can call in. The district attorney’s office owes me --”

I lifted my hand to silence him. “You already gave my father what he needed,” I said. “This conversation is about what you owe the women in these ledgers.”

Marlin went quiet, his eyes darting between me and Seth’s impassive back.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the tick of the antique grandfather clock my father liked in here.

Since no electronic equipment was allowed -- other than what Seth and I kept on our persons -- he thought the rather loud ticking of the majestic piece of furniture was intimidating in certain situations.

Judging by the way Marlin kept glancing nervously at the thing, I thought my father had been right.

Seth turned from the window just long enough to look at Marlin. Not a word passed between them, but something in the older man’s gaze made Marlin shrink back in his chair. Then Seth turned away again, his attention returning to the view beyond the glass.

I closed the briefcase with a soft click.

“The district attorney will be receiving an anonymous tip about your extracurricular activities tomorrow morning. Along with copies of these documents.” I stood, adjusting the cuff of my sleeve.

“I’d recommend leaving the country before then.

I understand extradition treaties can be quite…

complicated for men in your position.” I turned to glance at my father.

Without a word, Seth pulled a key from his pocket and handed it to me.

Marlin’s face had gone ashen. “You can’t just --”

“I can,” I said simply. “And I have.” I nodded to the door. “My father’s driver will take you wherever you need to go. I’d suggest packing light.” I shrugged. “Or you could turn yourself in.”

“You know as well as I do I’m dead the second I see the inside of a holding cell.”

I nodded. “True. Some of the people we’ve identified would be… decidedly unhappy to be caught up in this kind of scandal.”

Marlin remained seated, his hands flat on the table as if anchoring himself to the spot. “What about Iron? He’s the one who --”

“Iron,” I said, “is for me to worry about. Not you.” I moved to the door, unlocking it with the key my father had just handed to me. “The car leaves in ten minutes. With or without you.”

For a moment, Marlin didn’t move. Then he pushed back from the table and stood. His steps were measured as he crossed to the door, pausing at the threshold to look back at Seth’s unmoving form. “I have a family,” he said, the words barely audible.

Seth didn’t turn. “So did they.”

Marlin left without another word, his footsteps fading down the hallway. I closed the door behind him, then turned to my father. “It’s done.”

Seth nodded once, still gazing out the window. “Make sure he’s on the plane.”

“Yes, sir.” I moved to stand beside my father, both of us looking out at the grounds beyond the glass. “The network?”

“Yours to dismantle,” Seth said. “But carefully. We don’t want collateral damage.”

“Knuckles has the compound secured. The women are safe.”

“Good.” Seth’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, a brief pressure. “Then we’re done here.”

The trafficking network that had operated under Iron’s protection was finished.

By morning, every player would know exactly what happened to men who crossed the Miles family.

Then the hunt would begin. Neither I nor my father would allow our city to be used in such a way.

I didn’t care who the offenders were. If they had any part in this network, their lives as they knew it were now over.

Deeper in Nashville, a young woman named Tessa Garrison would sleep safely behind the walls of Haven, her sister at her side, her personal nightmare finally over, but her journey to recovery only beginning.

I’d watch over her. Make sure she got the care she needed.

She would want for nothing for the rest of her life…

and then, I’d put her completely out of my mind.