TWENTY-FOUR - JAMESON #2
“Can’t,” I said to Kane. “I’m busy that day. This afternoon actually works best for me.”
“Fine. I’ll send one of my cars. How’s that sound?”
“That sounds shitty. You come here or not at all.”
I could practically hear him smiling through the phone. “Fine. I’m not scared.”
Shit. I was.
As soon as the call ended, Roman set everything into action so fast it made my head spin.
He was on the phone with Ivan and coordinating with surveillance before my brain even processed the fact that this was actually happening.
I was about to come face-to-face with Kane for the first time since taking over my dad’s business.
My dad, on the other hand, was probably turning over in his grave.
There had always been this unspoken yet understood rule that you didn’t just go around all willy-nilly killing the ringleader of your competition because they did business differently than you. You killed them when they crossed a line…and only when you could prove it.
I’d stayed tried and true to that rule.
Apparently, Kane felt differently. He’d thought that I’d crossed some fucking proverbial line first and that he had all the evidence he seemed to have needed to eliminate me.
This was the first time I’d seen Kane in person in years.
It wasn’t like he attended family gatherings or dropped in to see how we were.
The last time I’d known him to be here was when he and my dad had a meeting in my dad’s office.
To this day, I didn’t know what that meeting was about or why it took place.
This was the first time I’d have met him as his rival.
“Relax.” Roman helped me into my wire, tucking the little transmitter box into the waistband of my skirt. “Remember, he’s on your turf. He knows you’re gonna have a bunch of trigger-happy men with loaded guns around every corner. He’s not stupid enough to try anything now. That’s not how he works.”
I released a long, calming breath. “I know. I’m just leery. That’s all.”
“Trust me, you have every right to be. But we’re all here, we’ve got you. I’ve got you. Okay?”
“Okay.” I tugged at the front of my shirt and brushed my hands down my skirt, as if my appearance mattered anymore.
Roman tucked the thin cord beneath my bra strap. The back of his hand grazed over the swell of my breast as he secured the wire behind the cup of my bra. Then, he clipped a tiny mic to the lace between my breasts.
“There. All set. Just wanted to make sure the wire isn’t visible.” He winked.
Of all times, coming face-to-face with the man who wanted me dead was not the time to be horny, yet, here I was, ready to risk it all for another earth-shattering orgasm. Instead, I settled for a piping hot, panty-melting kiss…just in case it was my last.
Roman pulled back, both of us out of breath. “What was that for?”
“Everything,” I said, wiping my lips, trying to fix my smeared makeup without a mirror.
“You need to get out of here before I call Kane myself and reschedule this meeting for never.”
“Fine. I’ll go. But only because you told me to.”
He smacked my ass as I walked away. “Go get ’em, tiger. I’ll see you downstairs.”
I met Ivan at the door, and we made our way downstairs on what felt like a walk of shame.
The dining area where everything had been staged was located on the far side of the casino, situated between the gaming floor and corridor to the hotel.
For guests, it meant they had to pass by food on their way to and from their room.
For me, it meant I had a clear line of sight to the front door and hotel entrance.
I took my seat at the table that had been set up and strategically arranged in place so I wouldn’t have any blind spots. With my back toward the wall, I glanced around the room. I didn’t see anyone standing post, and my men were there, watching and waiting, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
After what felt like an eternity, a tall, lean figure dressed head to toe in a dark burgundy, custom-fitted suit accented with gold strode over to me.
He grinned as he approached. “You’ve grown up since the last time I saw you. How long has it been? Years?”
“I’m okay with that.” He took the seat directly across from me.
He seemed to have aged a lot. I guess stress and time did that to a person. His hair had turned solid gray, and his face was lined with wrinkles at every corner.
“It’s been what? Four, five years?” he asked, lighting up a cigar he’d pulled from his coat pocket.
“Not long enough,” I quipped. “I see you’ve downgraded your taste.
” I tipped my chin toward the cigar wedged between his thin lips.
It was a King of Denmark, somewhere in the $5K-a-pop range.
Not that the money mattered to him; it was probably stolen anyway.
But someone somewhere else was pissed off and still waiting for their missing smokes.
He smiled as he blew out a plume. “You’re good.
” He held the King between his fingers, examining it.
“This is just a backup until my next boat arrives. You know how that goes. So, how have you been?” He glanced around the casino before returning his gaze to me.
“Seems like things are going very well for you here, all things considered.”
“Everything is going just fine, yes.” Except for that one tiny problem where he kept sending his men over here to try to kill me.
“You’ve made some renovations, I see.”
“I did. But I’m sure you already knew that.”
“Indeed, I did.” He flicked an ash onto the floor. Asshole. “Word out there now is you’ve hired new security? Yeah?”
“I’ve increased my staff.” I narrowed my eyes to him. “Where is this going? Did you just want to meet up to ask me about my staff? ’Cause I’ve got things to do. Busy weekend and all. You know how that is.”
“By one,” he stated. “Is it lover boy? Where has he been, anyway?”
“Cut the shit, Kane. What do you want?”
“It is him, isn’t it?” he asked, completely ignoring me. “That’s so cute. A modern-day Bonnie and Clyde. You really don’t need him though.”
“Clearly, I do. You keep sending your henchmen over here, trying to intimidate me, when all they’re doing is getting in my way and on my last damned nerve.”
“You seem like a smart girl, but you’re a terrible host.” He ignored me completely. “You haven’t even offered me a drink or anything.”
I snapped my arm in the air, waving over a cocktail waitress. “This man would like a drink,” I told her when she approached us.
“Yes, sir. What would you like?” she asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
“Surprise me. Whatever’s the most expensive. Jameson here doesn’t mind.” He glanced at me with a smirk.
“Yes, sir.” She scurried away to the bar to fetch his shitty drink.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, getting back to it.
“You know, I always liked that about you, Jameson. You’re a take-no-shit, get-straight-to-business kinda gal…
or so I’ve heard.” He took one last puff from his cigar, then snuffed it out.
I didn’t say anything, just glared at him.
“You’re a tough cookie to crack. So, I guess we’ll get to it, then.
You blocked one of my deliveries…a very specia—”
“I did no such thing.”
Any hint of amusement in his demeanor disappeared.
“Don’t play stupid. That cutesy shit doesn’t work with me.
Quite frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck whether you swam out into the river and pulled my boat off course yourself with your teeth or got one of your puppets to do it for you, but someone here did, and my entire boat, along with all of its contents, is still missing. ”
“I don’t give a shit about—” The waitress approached and set his drink down on the table in front of him.
When she walked away, I continued in a hushed tone.
“I don’t give a shit about you or your boats or your precious fucking cargo.
The only thing I’m concerned about are my own problems. You should try minding your business sometime. It’s fucking liberating.”
“I don’t generally cross lines. Not until mine is fucked with.” He took a sip from his glass—Don Julio on the rocks. I knew because it was the most expensive drink staff was allowed to serve customers, and he was not a paying guest. “Don? You can do better than that.”
“I reserve the best for the best. Let me get to the point because I have shit to do. Stop sending your men over here trying to toy with me. Otherwise, you can look forward to getting each one sent back to you, maybe still in one piece if you’re lucky.”
“You’re just like your dad, you know that? Always want to play hero, save the fucking day. I’ve got news for you: you’re not him, and you can’t save them all.”
“You’re wasting my time and yours.”
“Like I told you, that wasn’t my man. Not anymore. You’d think all those years you spent alongside Elliott, you’d have learned something.” He took a slow pull from his glass. “You took something of mine, and I want it back.”
“I already told you I didn’t take your precious cargo.”
“I’ve got a missing boat that’s worth more than the one we’re sitting on now, and it veered off course right here,” he said, poking his finger into the tabletop. “I’ll let you do the math.”
“Let me get this straight. Because you can’t keep track of your own shit, that’s somehow my problem?”
“It very much is your problem. If it had disappeared at someone else’s property upstream, then it would be their problem.”