Either way, it seems a conversation between us is in order. He needs to unfuck this situation so that my father can get justice. That, or he can get out of my way.Sliding into my vehicle, I slam the door shut with enough force to make the windows rattle.It’s rare that I lose control, but I’m so angry that it’s hard to rein in the fury. My stepmother’s distraught face flitters through my mind.“Promise me you’ll make them pay, Nathan ,” she begged. “Whoever took Leonardo from me needs to pay.”Katy may not be my biological mother, but she’s the only one I have. And I promised her.I toss the bag containing the last items my father carried with him onto the passenger seat. When it lands, the contents shift, spreading out inside the plastic.Sunlight streaming through the windshield glints off the gold rings he favored. One for his forefinger, one for his middle, and…Frowning, I grab the bag and bring it in for closer inspection. There are three rings. My father only wore two.I take
“Yeah, bitch, take my dick. I’m stretching you so good with my big cock, aren’t I?”Grimacing, I go to the wet bar by the dinette near the stern and pour myself a shot of whiskey.It takes him about thirty seconds to finish. Although it seems like an eternity to me and I’m sure to the poor woman in there with him too. All the while, he demeaned her, called her a whore and a slut because he needed her approval. Validation that he was big enough to make her feel something.I’ve never seen Andre ’s dick. Don’t need to view his prick to know it’s probably proportional to his body size.Because if your dick is big enough, you don’t need to ask a woman if she feels it. In fact, if you’re big enough, she shouldn’t be able to speak, much less answer stupid fucking questions.A few minutes later, a brunette climbs out of the lower deck, wiping white powder from her nose as she shrugs into a thin red sweater. She gives me a weary smile before she grabs her purse from the cushioned benches aroun
“Or is it the other way around?” I ask, my tone still calm. “What did you do that she’s now unwilling to work with you?”His gaze flicks to mine. “What are you, my consigliere? You givin’ me advice on how to run my own show? I never appointed you to that job. It’s none of your fuckin’ concern what I do! Don’t forget, you work forme.” He points a finger at me as he sneers the last words.“Is that what you think?”“It’s what I know. I’m the king around here, bitch. I make the decisions, and if I don’t want to work with those assholes anymore, you can’t say shit. You’re nothin’ but a lackey hitman. So act like it and go kill somethin’.”His skinny neck is in my hands before he can make a peep. I have one knee on the cushion beside him, the other across the top of his legs, pinning them. But the majority of my weight is on his windpipe.“Do you know what it takes to be a hitman, cousin?”Mouth opening and closing like a fish, his tanned skin turning purple, he stares at me with wide, wild
“Good,” he said. “We may not be blood, Nathan , but wearefamily. And we do everything to protect the family.”If only his sons were half the man he was, everything would be simpler. I wouldn’t have to step in every time they piss someone off.I wouldn’t be considering removing Andre from his position.My car keys clank loudly when I toss them onto the black granite counter in my kitchen. I push the button on the fireplace mantel that turns it on and pause when I go to sit on my couch.Katy is lying there, sound asleep. I crouch beside her and swipe a lock of her dark hair from her face.“Mother?”She stirs, a soft sob escaping her, but she doesn’t fully wake. The light from the fire catches on her soft features, accentuating the lines created by age, which haven’t managed to dull her beauty.I sigh, hating to see her like this. Frail, broken. Her cheeks streaked with dry tears.It’s too late to take her home now. Besides, I’m not sure if I want her there alone, surrounded by the memor
“What can I do for you, Lewis ?” I ask.“First, I wanted to give you my condolences. I heard about your father.” He sounds genuine enough. I’ve met jamie on two occasions. The first time was after Gustavo died and he’d come to New Jersey to pay his respects. The second was when he returned to Jersey, attempting a truce after the incident with Colwill , something I highly admired him for. Took fucking balls.“Thank you,” I say politely. I don’t ask him how he got my number. We all have our ways. Instead, I urge him to get to the point of the call. “What can I do for you, Lewis ?”“Call me Jamie ”“All right, Jamie . I’d expect anything you might need would be asked of Andre . Not me.”He sighs. “I’ve tried. Unfortunately, your cousin has no interest in a conversation with me, no matter that what I have to say affects him.”I sit up, my brows pinched tightly together. “You have my attention.”“I thought I would.” He exhales again, louder this time, as if he has something heavy on his c
“A few times,” I said. “It’s run by Gary ward .”“Apparently, he hands out those rings to his regulars.”“And who the fuck did this one belong to?” I asked.“You’ll have to ask him yourself,” he told me. “Even I can’t break into his systems to get that. I can get you his phone number, though.”I remained silent while I considered that. The Ward Ward House is an underground organization in Philadelphia that specializes in black market art and antiquities. Though I’ve never had any dealings with the Gary , I know my uncle did. The question is, were they on civil terms?“Do that,” I said. If only Gary Ward can give me the information I need about the owner of the ring, then I have no choice but to ask nicely. Or at least, start off that way.As it turns out, Uncle Gustavo did have a good relationship with Gary Ward . Though that shouldn’t surprise me. He was a man who earned respect.Arran agreed to meet me at Vino, a restaurant in Philadelphia.When I arrive that evening at nine sharp
His eyes flick up to mine. “Leave it with me. I’ll have my head of security determine who it belongs to and take care of it.”“How?”“They’re chipped. Beneath the ruby.” He touches the gemstone. “It’s a sort of magnetic keycard.”“Fancy,” I say.“It is. You should visit sometime. I’ll give you a trial membership. Cancel anytime.”“Art isn’t my thing.” I tilt my chin toward the ring still in his hand. “Tell me who it belongs to, and I’ll owe you.”“Member information is confidential,” he states.“Then why the hell offer to help me?” I snatch it from his hand before he can think about pulling it out of my reach.He smirks. “I didn’t offer anything. I said I’d find out who the owner is. Losing one of these rings is unacceptable.”Sliding it back on, I grin. “Well, unless you’re willing to take it off my cold, dead body, I suggest we make a deal.”“I could kill you.” He smiles a deadly sort of smile that only someone like me can recognize. I can see beyond the expensive blue suit and tie,
“Harry Kane He owns The S Gallery in Hoboken.”“He visits Ward House?”“On occasion,” he replies. “Kane is a discreet collector. Only shows up when something very unique comes our way. And on occasion, he uses my services to sell something also very unique. I don’t appreciate the loss of his business. But he knows the rules. Risk exposing us, and you’re out. Expose us, and you’re dead.”“Harsh rules,” I retort. “Glad I never joined “Making money is risky.”“It’s possible he’s not aware he’s lost the ring,” I offer. “It would be beneficial if it remains that way. Besides, you have the ring now. No harm, no foul to you. Wait a couple of weeks before you boot him out.”He makes a noise that sounds a lot like a snort, though I can’t see a man like him doing that. “I hope you’re as quick to repay the favor as you are to make demands. You have two weeks.” Harry Reed Kane lives in a renovated townhouse on the corner of Hudson and Ninth. He made his money as a restaurateur in Manhattan, th