34. Chapter 34
Victor
Hunter Novak stands at the head of the conference table in his office and pours himself a finger of scotch. Luke stands by the floor-to-ceiling windows, arms crossed, Matteo leans against the wall near the door, and Owen and I sit next to each other at the mahogany table.
“Let’s get this moving. I don’t like being away from Trinity right now,” Hunter says as he lifts the crystal tumbler to his lips.
Owen’s mouth presses into a firm line. He’s all too aware of how much Hunter doesn’t like being away from Trinity thanks to the complaints he’s getting from VIP casino guests who count on face-time with him during their stay.
Billionaire gamblers don’t often care about pesky things like wives getting shot when they’re dropping ten grand at a time on poker and Blackjack.
But he pulled himself away from her side at the club where we’re all still staying to have a meeting with the four of us so that Owen can tell us just how bad the recordings that Jacob gave us are.
Owen taps a few keys and presses a button on a remote lying next to him. “I’ve spent the last few days analyzing what Jacob brought us. You’ve already heard the condensed version but believe me when I say there is so much more here.”
“And you’re sure it’s legitimate?” Hunter asks, still standing, rather than sitting.
Owen nods. “Voice recognition confirms it’s Griffin Price. And the other voices match known associates of his. There’s no manipulation of the audio.”
I lean forward in my chair. “Any indication who Jacob got it from based on the other voices?”
Owen frowns and shakes his head. “There are a few voices that appear in a majority of the recordings, but I haven’t identified them yet. And I doubt we can convince Jacob to give us that information. Not when he already risked his life to get us what he did.”
“Get to the point, Thorne,” Hunter snarls.
He’s more surly than usual today, and I wonder if the pressure of caring for an injured wife and running an empire as large as his is starting to get to him.
Owen presses something on the remote, and Griffin Price’s voice fills the room.
“The Russians want back into Las Vegas. Draven and that cunt of a mayor are our way in. They’re too stupid and power-hungry to realize they’re pawns.
The trouble is going to be those bastards who run the sex club and Hunter Novak.
He runs Las Vegas and ran the Russians out five years ago. ”
Owen pauses it. “There’s a lot more like this, but it changes the equation. We’ve been operating under the premise that Phineas Draven is the one behind everything. The data on these recordings say it’s really Griffin Price orchestrating it all from behind the curtain.”
“While letting the likes of Phineas, Bryce, and Senator Pratchett take all the risk and blame,” Matteo says. His voice cracks on the mention of Bryce, his fiancée’s brother and his college best friend who is now serving time in a UK prison for his role in betraying us.
“Exactly.” Owen pulls up a diagram on the screen across from us. It’s a complex web of company names and arrows.
“These are Griffin’s shell companies. Twenty-three in total, spread across twelve countries. He’s been using them to funnel money for Russian interests trying to establish a presence in Las Vegas, among other places.”
Hunter’s glass hits the desk hard enough that I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter, and everyone turns their attention to him.
“What’s the trouble?” Owen asks when he realizes that Hunter’s eyes are locked on the diagram.
“Meridian Holdings,” Hunter says, his voice taking on a dark tone that would scare the average businessman.
“What about it?” I ask cautiously.
“I signed a fucking eighty-million-dollar contract with them six months ago. They’re handling all the security upgrades Owen requested, including the ones in the arena Skylar uses for her shows.”
Matteo curses under his breath but doesn’t leave his spot against the wall.
“How far into the work have they gotten?” Owen asks.
Hunter drags a hand through his hair and shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I’d have to pull up the file.”
He presses a button on the phone in the middle of the table. “Nadine, bring me the Meridian Holdings documents. Make sure it includes everything they’ve completed so far.”
There’s no response, but Hunter doesn’t seem to care. He stalks around the table to stand over Owen’s shoulder, staring at his computer screen.
“I swear to God I’m going to fucking bury him. Show me everything.”
Because we all believe him, and don’t mind if Hunter buries him, Owen complies, walking him through everything he’s found on the recordings so far.
“How did you find this when my people missed it?” Hunter asks.
Owen looks up. “I wasn’t looking for fraud.
I was just looking for Griffin. Once I had a thread from the recordings, I just pulled on it until the whole thing unraveled, and I started connecting companies and contracts.
Meridian is buried six layers deep, but it ties back to Crimson Peak, which seems to be what everything ties back to with him.
We’ll want to figure out why. But right now, it’s tied to the Russians. ”
“These Russians,” Luke asks, “who are they exactly? Are they tied to Maxim Agron?”
Owen leans back in his chair and looks at each of us. “There are some connections. Definitely Bratva, but a new generation. They operate more like corporations now, less street violence, more economic warfare.”
Hunter paces behind Owen. “I spent years running those bastards out of my city. They almost killed Skylar, almost killed my wife. Now they think they can just walk back in through the front door?”
“Through multiple doors, actually,” Owen corrects. “They’ve diversified. Construction companies, real estate firms, tech startups. Griffin’s been setting up the chess pieces. And Las Vegas isn’t the only city he’s interested in.”
“You mentioned in our conversation the other day that Price has a connection to Kara Lindon and Bryce Cameron going all the way back to our days at Yale. What do you make of that?” I ask.
Owen types something and the screen changes. Photos of Kara and Griffin at a charity function pop up on the screen. A function I was at seven years ago. The night Grace met Kara. Goddammit.
“And Bryce?” I ask.
“Similar connections through the country club Bryce and Matteo used to golf at. From what I can tell, he just used those connections to get closer to us. I’m assuming he blackmailed them both somehow. Bryce, at least. Kara, I think he may have seduced.”
“Are we positive Sampson killed himself?” Luke asks quietly.
My gut twists into a knot. This is far more sinister than even I could have imagined.
“There’s always a possibility he didn’t,” Owen says. “But the note was in his handwriting, and there’s no evidence of anyone else in his room at the time the shot was fired. I’ll continue digging, though.”
“Price has been to the club, correct?” Hunter asks.
I nod slowly and Hunter points at Owen. “I want my wife out of there now. Use the bunker underneath the Elysium if you have to. It wasn’t part of the Meridian Holdings contract.”
Owen already has his phone to his ear, and I push away from the table to stretch my legs. “Are we sure moving is wise?”
“There’s no reason for me to trust that the club hasn’t been compromised, and I’m about to royally piss him off.”
Before I can caution against whatever he’s thinking, the door opens, and Nadine steps in without a word and hands Hunter a thick file.
“How much work have they done?” he asks her as he flips the folder open.
“The cameras in pits four, five, and six at Sapphire. A crew is coming today to do the rest of the pit cameras.”
“Cancel it.”
Nadine raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue, just backs out of the room to do his bidding.
“You’re really going to cancel an eighty-million-dollar contract without talking to your lawyers.”
He pulls out his cellphone and dials a number.
“Austin, can you find a loophole in a contract for me? Nadine will have it in your inbox in the next two minutes.”
He puts the phone back in his pocket and dares me to say anything else with his silent stare.
“I think the rest of us should follow Hunter’s lead,” Matteo says. “If the club has been compromised, and Harper being drugged suggests it has, we’re sitting ducks. We’ll up security in our homes and use evasive maneuvers to travel anywhere.”
“The bunker has plenty of space if you feel you or your partners are in danger,” Hunter offers.
“Hunter should be at the summit.” It’s the second time Matteo has dropped a quiet bomb in as many minutes, and I turn to stare at him where he stands, still leaning against the wall.
“What summit?” Hunter demands.
“My father warned me the Russians were trying to worm their way back into Las Vegas. His solution is to have the Serrano Cartel move in first. None of us want that, so instead we’ve called for a summit. Representatives from all our families will be meeting at The High Card in a few days.”
Hunter nods. “Agreed. I can help. But I’m not getting into bed with your families. I work with the four of you because you’ve proven yourselves and you keep your money laundering out of my casinos. I want nothing to do with the rest of your kind.”
“We don’t want anything to do with them either, mate. Why do you think we ended up here?” Owen asks dryly as he ends his phone call.
“Mrs. Novak will be on her way to the bunker with the Carters shortly. I’ve been told she’s none too happy about it.”
“She’ll live,” Hunter snaps. “Is that all, gentlemen?”
“I’ve barely scratched the surface of what’s on these recordings, but I’ll keep digging and let you know if I find anything else,” Owen promises.
As we leave the Pink Sapphire, I steel myself for what’s coming. The summit. The necessary confrontation with Griffin. And the potential bloodshed and upheaval if things don’t go right. I’ve kept that part of myself leashed for years, the violence came so naturally in my youth.
But if Griffin Price, the Russians, or anyone else comes for me and mine again, I’m prepared to set it free again.