Chapter 4 Roman
ROMAN
“Word around town is that the place is making a lot of money,” Ares says as we drive to the club. “And the last time I was there, the place looked like it had some renovations.”
I nod. That’s good news. Looks like Rodriguez was right in that his new manager was turning the place around. I’m glad for it. I wasn’t looking forward to having to hurt him for stiffing us.
Ares glances over at me. “So… you think he’s got the money?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think,” I say. “He either does and everything’s good or he doesn’t and everything’s bad. Simple as that.”
“Yeah, well, I hope it is going good. Obi’s supposed to be getting married in a few months. A bunch of us have been talking about throwing him a bachelor’s party. Now that the Kitten’s Paw’s high class and everything—”
I snicker. “High class? It’s only been six months. Has it made that much of a turnaround?”
“I mean, it’s definitely nicer. Cleaner. The girls are much better quality. Real A-squad.” He pauses and gives me a side-eye. “You should think about coming out sometime. Like, not on business. Maybe it’ll get you out of your funk.”
I don’t respond. Lately, I’ve just not been interested in the women who float in and out of my life.
They’re all beautiful, always. The dangerous air around me attracts them like flies.
But after we get past the surface, I find them to be bland and weak-willed.
Far too easy to break. I haven’t been challenged since…
well, since Mila. I doubt I ever will be again.
And wherever the ‘right’ woman for me is, she’s not going to be shaking her tits in a club.
We pull into the empty lot and there’s a single car there.
I immediately notice that it’s not Rodriguez’s.
He drives a black luxury car and this one, it’s just a little light blue sedan.
Maybe he got a new car. I glance at the time on my phone.
He knows we’re due this morning. If he’s not here yet, then he’d better be on his way.
We park and the security guy steps out from his booth. “Morning, gentlemen.”
“Good morning,” we both respond, then Ares says, “Looking for Rodriguez.”
He snickers. “Popular guy today. His manager was looking for him too.”
Ares pauses, glancing over at me. “So, he’s not here?”
The guard shakes his head. “He was here earlier. Stayed for about an hour and then left. I think he’s supposed to be coming back. His manager said she’s here for a meeting with him.”
That’s a bad sign. “Why don’t you let us in?” Ares says. “We’ll wait for him.”
The security guy looks a little apprehensive. “I’m not really supposed to do that. I mean, you guys understand, right? It’s not like you’re employees—”
Ares steps right up to him, his blue eyes glowing with warning. “We’ve got business with Mr. Rodriguez,” he growls. “He’d want us to wait inside for him. Understand?”
I stand by, watching as the security guy crumbles under Ares’ gaze. His hands shake as he reaches for the keys. “Okay. No problem. Just let me find the keys.”
He steps away from us, leading to the door. I give Ares a silent look of approval. My brother’s bark is still sharp. I’d hate to think about what would have happened if the guard had denied us.
He lets us in and asks, “You guys know where to go, right?”
“Yes. Thank you,” I say and I start to step away, then I pause and turn back to him. “You’ll keep your mouth shut about us when he comes in… right?”
He pauses, and I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. To his credit, he catches on quickly. “Sure, sure. Mum’s the word.”
He leaves, and we walk through the empty club toward the employee entrance near the back. The whole place smells of stale beer with a whiff of perfume hanging in the air. I swear there’s nothing more pathetic than the smell of a closed bar.
“Last thing I need is him getting spooked by the guard,” I mutter as we walk. “If he doesn’t have our money, when he shows up—”
“He’s not that foolish,” said Ares. “He probably went to get it.”
I glance at him as I open the employee entrance door. I am doubtful that’s the case.
As we walk through the hallway, I pick up the faint scent of floral fruit in the air. More perfume, heavier this time. It smells familiar somehow…
We get to his office. It’s empty except for a woman standing in the middle of the room with her back to us. She’s got white-gold hair fashioned in a ponytail and is wearing a soft pink blouse. That floral fruit perfume floats in a cloud around her as we approach. “Excuse us.”
She starts and looks over her shoulder. I recognize her immediately. The gorgeous thing that I literally ran into months ago. Her face has floated around in my dreams since that day. She stares at me with icy blue eyes as they widen with surprise.
“Can I help you?” she asks, her entire body stiffening.
“I’m looking for Omar.”
She turns all the way around and I see she’s holding a piece of notebook paper. “He’s not here,” she says. Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “How did you get in here?”
“Security guy,” I tell her.
Ares adds, “We asked him nicely.”
Her eyes dart between us and slowly, I see a mix of fear and intrigue swim behind them… and maybe a little disgust. She clears her throat and says, “Well, you shouldn’t be in here right now. We’re closed.”
“I meet with him every month,” I say. “We have a standing appointment.”
“You don’t say?” she says with a raise of her eyebrows. I just answered some question that she had. Maybe something that she was meaning to ask him today. If she’s as good with the books as Omar suggested, then there’s no doubt about the answers she was seeking.
“You must be the manager he mentioned hiring,” I say to ease the tension around her. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“That’s because I never threw it,” she says smartly. She looks me up and down, then her shoulders relax. “Listen, whatever meeting you had with Omar, you might as well cancel it indefinitely. He’s left town.”
Alarms go off in my head. “Where did he go?”
She shrugs and hands me the paper. “Maybe you can tell me.”
I read the note. It’s short and sweet. Son of a bitch. Ares glances at it from over my shoulder and grunts in affirmation. The fucker bolted anyway. “I suppose he never mentioned taking any trips, did he?”
“Why would he tell me anything like that?”
“Well, you are his manager.”
“I’m not his keeper,” she says with disgust. “He’s the owner. Technically, he doesn’t have to tell me anything.”
Omar really kept everyone in the dark about his business dealings. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised… but she certainly is about to be.
“Listen,” she goes on, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but—”
“Want me to handle this?” Ares says in a low timber.
She stops and throws him a scowl. “Excuse me, but I can hear you.”
Ares doesn’t even look at her. He’s asking me if he can get Omar’s location out of her the hard way. Probably something involving pliers and a blowtorch. I don’t blame him for not believing her. He leaves nothing to chance.
I hand her back the paper. Then, I reach into my jacket pocket and hand her my card. “Call me if he comes back here. It’s very important that we speak.”
She just stares up at me wordlessly with those eyes, her soft, pink mouth open slightly in question. If only this were a better time…
“I’m Roman, by the way,” I tell her.
She blinks and stammers, “Ember. I’m Ember Lorenzo.”
“Nice to meet you.”
I turn and motion to Ares to follow me.
It’s been a week since we were there and there’s been no sign of Omar. I’ve put the word out to our sister gangs and allies all across the country, and so far, nobody’s seen him. Bastard just vanished into thin air.
It’s funny. If he had been there without the money, there’s no guarantee that I would have killed him. Hurt him, perhaps, but if I were to be honest, killing him wasn’t definitively on the table until now. Running is so much worse. I can’t tolerate that kind of disrespect.
I’m sitting in my office as Ivan taps along on his laptop. As my obshchak, his job is normally to mind the money that flows through the Bratva. Right now, I need him for more than just that.
He stops typing and leans into the screen, adjusting the thick glasses on his nose.
When Ivan has long sleeves on, he looks the part of an accountant.
His brown hair is in a short, conservative cut and he usually has a serious expression on his face.
But his arms are tattooed from shoulder to wrist like the rest of us, telling the story of his journey through our Bratva.
He’s been with me for at least ten years and before that, he worked for my mentor.
While I know better than to fully trust anyone within the Bratva, he’s never steered me wrong.
He leans back and finally says, “According to public records, the Kitten’s Paw only pulled in about four hundred thousand last year. For a club of that size, that’s a comfortable amount. Hardly what I’d call a successful club, though.”
I sit back in my chair, silently contemplating the issue. Ares has been standing in the far corner, glowering at me in angry silence. Omar’s getaway has been rubbing him the wrong way all this week.
“So, what does that mean? He’s been hoarding money?” Ares asks. “I mean, if their profit has doubled—”
“We don’t know for sure if it’s doubled,” Ivan replied. “I mean, anything’s possible, but we won’t know anything like that until we get a look at their records.”
Ares rolls his eyes. “He had to have been hoarding cash. Where did he get the money for those renovations? And the money for him to run? He took our fifty grand and left town with it, Roman.”
It’s valid reasoning. I immediately think of his manager. The beautiful, golden haired Ember. Was she doing such a good job that they netted enough money for him to have the money to disappear?
I guess none of that matters now. I need to be recouped for his fuck up.
“How much would we get from the insurance company if we torched the place?” I ask Ivan.