Chapter 7
Sinclair
The art of interrogation.
I’d become damn good at it over the years, even more so than Alexander or my other two brothers.
With Alexander, the person on the receiving end of the heated conversation rarely survived past ten minutes.
At least I was somewhat more resourceful, utilizing anticipation of what could or in most cases would eventually happen if they didn’t talk.
Whoever this asshole was, he certainly didn’t seem eager to talk.
But a thief was a thief.
Maybe the hours spent suffering had provided him with a change of heart.
Those who knew me well realized I channeled various attributes, complex sides to me that usually allowed me to keep an edge. The switch from one to the other was often without provocation.
Terms used had been around, everything from playboy to intellectual entrepreneur. The lifestyle I lived could certainly provide proof of both. I was usually the one sent to handle situations in other states and countries, which had afforded me the luxury of experiencing different cultures.
Liars. Rats. Thieves.
I hated all three, but when someone had the fucking audacity to steal from my family’s empire, there was no redemption possible. The person would pay a severe price.
What troubled me was simply that I didn’t have a clue as to his identity. That was unusual, although those intending on doing the family harm had become more creative over the years.
I slipped my weapon into the shoulder holster before buttoning my jacket and adjusted the cuffs on my shirt. This was only the first stop of the afternoon.
After leaving Josette, I’d returned to my house, taking another shower. Not because I’d wanted to wash away our passion, but because any hint that I’d been with a woman wasn’t something I preferred sharing with anyone.
My private life was just that.
Mine alone.
While I hadn’t meant to become close to her even carnally, I’d certainly enjoyed myself more than any man had a right to. The added benefit was that she’d dropped her questions about the sound in the trunk. So I chose to call it justifiable fucking. Yes, I was a very bad man.
The facility I was prepared to visit had been acquisitioned for our use, the owner offering no resistance.
We still offered protection throughout the city, a leftover series of business arrangements handled by my father fifteen to twenty years before.
In exchange for ensuring the riffraff of the city including gangs never laid a finger on them, they paid a small fee.
We weren’t interested in the money. It was all about the information.
Which was why I’d already asked Enzo to have a few conversations with the local businesses. There had to be someone somewhere who could provide information about why and how the product had been hit.
In this case, we’d acquired the building through the death of a client, the aging man leaving the facility to us in his will.
How very nice of him.
The aging man had believed we would continue his small operation, our reputation firmly planted in the locals’ minds. We’d honored his request. In doing so, we’d acquired another building in the heart of the French Quarter. We’d yet to determine what to do with the pristine space.
For some reason, I was more eager to get the day’s more destructive act of business completed. Maybe the woman and her goodness had rubbed off on me.
My soldiers had been sent ahead in order to prep for the early afternoon’s festivities.
Although I’d kept them waiting for longer than anticipated.
For good reason.
The thoughts of her lingering in my mind needed to be shoved aside. Now it was time to concentrate on business.
When I walked inside the building, the frigid air was invigorating, the cold storage location useful for several reasons, including for Indulgence. Today, it was all about one in particular.
My footsteps echoed on the hard concrete floor as I walked slowly toward the savage noise of the man held against his will. As I rounded the corner, the stench of fresh blood wafted into my nostrils.
Enzo glanced at me.
“I thought you’d forgotten about us, boss,” he said as he approached.
“I just had a few things come up unexpectedly.” Goddamn, it was cold in the building. Yes, that was the point, including requiring the man to be stripped of his clothing.
Enzo lifted his eyebrows, chuckling under his breath. “He’s been very quiet. Nothing on him. No sign of the van that left.”
“As anticipated. Pull him down and put him in a chair. I want to do this face to face.”
With a single nod, he instructed the other men, who lowered the crank, grabbing the man under the arms. Even with his face swollen from the beating he’d received, the thief managed to look me directly in the eyes. In them I noticed continued amusement.
He was certainly an arrogant bastard. Not typical with a low man on the totem pole.
My men wasted no time securing him to a chair. Afterwards, he hung his head, his breathing labored, but he was very much alive.
I took my time approaching, placing my foot on the center of the seat between his legs. And very near his manhood.
He snorted in response. His lips were dry and if I knew my men, they’d ignored any plea for water.
“What’s your name?” I didn’t normally ask because I just didn’t care. But at this point, it could prove beneficial to know how far he’d go to keep his identity hidden. That would provide me with an understanding of his willingness to make a deal.
“Fuck you.” His voice was strained from his dry throat and swollen lips.
Inhaling, I shook my head. Where I’d enjoyed this before, it had been long enough I’d grown used to business as usual. “You’re thirsty.”
He didn’t say anything, doing his best to look away. Did he honestly think ignoring me would convince me to leave?
“Give me a bottle of water.” I held my hand out, surprised when Enzo narrowed his eyes. “Do it.”
With the confused look remaining, he grabbed a full bottle.
I untwisted the cap, holding it in front of the unknown thief. “Give me your name and I’ll let you have some.”
Rarely was I surprised any longer what worked in getting people to talk. Normally, it was about threatening their families, but I’d grown weary of doing so. I’d killed plenty of enemies in my years on Earth, but not once had I made good on killing a single family member.
I’d sent a few out of the lives of their worthless spouses, but that was different.
His sigh was heavy. “Vincent.” However, he was studying me as if wondering if I recognized the ordinary name. Was this some game to him?
At least obtaining his name was something. I cupped and squeezed his jaw, forcing him to open his mouth. As soon as I threw back his head, I poured water into his mouth until he choked. I tossed the rest into his face and walked away. Obviously, I was still in a shitty mood.
“You know, Vincent, what you did was reprehensible. Stealing under any circumstances is a criminal act.”
The asshole actually had the stupidity of chuckling.
As if his bravado was going to save him.
When Enzo moved closer, lifting his arm prepared to teach him another lesson, I held up my hand, shaking my head. I was in no mood to allow this to go on longer than necessary. It had been a long week and the thought of enjoying a drink or two sounded excellent.
Too bad I couldn’t do it with a beautiful woman by my side.
“I’m going to try one last time with you, but you should know by now I’m not a patient or forgiving man. I need one thing. Who were you planning on selling the merchandise to?”
“Your mama.”
Here we go.
I was getting too old for this or maybe I’d completely grown out of every level of patience.
Street value of the product was near two million, the cocaine brought in of the highest quality. The number of bricks he and his buddies had stolen was substantial enough that it would provide undue stress. Our wealthy clients expected perfection, which we’d always supplied.
Until now.
We were even considering expanding our operations into Texas and possibly Florida.
Now the expansions would need to wait. Not only for time to acquire additional product, but also for our reputation to recover.
A part of me wondered if sullying our brand had been as much of a driving factor into risking enraging the Prince family as obtaining the product itself.
Being the laughingstock wasn’t on my bucket list.
Whoever was purchasing the product had substantial cash as well as connections.
Or there was a slim chance the cargo would remain intact until the heat cooled, sold off in smaller quantities.
The last thought was that someone was testing our security.
While Alexander might call me a conspiracy theorist, he couldn’t deny that the Russians had done that very same thing.
Whatever the plan, nothing about it boded well.
The last thing we needed was another party attempting to move in on our turf.
“I can see we’re not going to go anywhere with this. I’d hoped you’d be cooperative so I could spare your life, but unless you give me something, I wouldn’t be doing my job by keeping you alive.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“You said plenty before, as if I’m unaware of a much larger operation. It’s time for you to confess. Your buddies are obtaining all the glory while you sit here. Not that my company isn’t enjoyable, but I’m certain you’d rather be doing anything else.”
“Fuck you. I don’t give up my friends.”
The words for the day. And here I’d thought the man might be more creative.
“Are you certain about that?”
Vincent looked away. Another mistake.
I issued a brutal punch, knocking him and the chair over. My hand immediately ached. It was time to get back to the gym. Dammit. I wasn’t in as good a shape as I should be.
Without asking, my soldiers righted him.
Enzo lingered on the side, eager and willing to provide a form of encouragement should I desire.