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Samson wanted in on that action, but he just fucking went around it the whole-ass wrong way. “Let me see him,” I demand.
My father shakes his head slowly. “I will talk. You will answer when spoken to. Yes?” He is the director right now, and there is only one way to answer him.
Dipping my chin, I look up at him through my lashes. “Yes,” I comply.
He hums then turns on his heels. I don’t walk behind him, because this is work right now. It’s Coleman first, as the oldest, Wells second, and me third. There is no fucking other way around this shit.
We walk into the room where the two are being held, the pimp and his partner. I honestly didn’t know he even had a partner. It’s not like I really ever did any research or paid much attention to the business aspect of the company. I paid my dues, I fucked a woman of my choosing, that’s how it went down.
The moment I step into the room, I know when I’m recognized. The pimp stands. “Hendrick Hamilton, it’s been a while. I thought you left me for greener pastures, or rather, kinkier ones.”
He’s right. I did.
My lips twitch, but I do not speak, knowing my father would be fucking pissed off if I did.
“Josiah,” my father mutters, dipping his chin in his direction. “And Prisma.”
The woman doesn’t even blink as her eyes scan each of us, one by one. She’s recognizable, but I can’t place her. I know I’ve seen her before, and when she realizes I’m staring at her, trying to figure it out, her lips curve up into a catlike smile.
“I’m famous for being famous. I’m an heiress. I’m sure you’ve seen me on television or magazine covers,” she purrs.
Dipping my chin, I realize that’s exactly where I’ve seen her, and one other place. I’ve fucked her.
“You fucked me, too, Hendrick.”
There it is.
My brothers both groan, and my father grunts at her announcement. She doesn’t make a move to stand or even flinch at the brash words spoken. I don’t either. Instead, I watch her and wonder how much of that night she’s going to divulge to my brothers and father.
“It was fun. I was disappointed when you didn’t come back for seconds.” She shrugs a shoulder, then flicks her attention over to my father as if she’s done with me, which is fine by me because I did fuck her, but I didn’t brag about it because she was a terrible goddamn lay.
“Why am I here? Why are we here?” she demands, her focus on my father and only my father.
“Shelby Simon and the US attorney general,” my father states. “Explain that to me.”
There is a long moment of silence, one where Prisma appears cool and collected. However, I can’t help but notice that Josiah squirms slightly in his chair, likely a bit worried because his hands are deep into this shit and Prisma is just an investor and sometimes a participant.
“What about them?” Josiah asks.
“Why don’t you tell me? How often does he go to her? What does he pay her? And how long are they alone together?”
“The privacy of my clients—” Josiah begins.
He is cut off when my father lifts his gun and points it directly at him. “I don’t give a fuck about the privacy of your clients,” he grinds out. “I want my questions answered.”
“He has a weekly standing appointment with her,” Josiah blurts. “They spend two hours together once a week. He is her biggest client. He loves her. Refuses to fuck anyone else.”
“And they still meet?” Coleman asks.
Josiah nods a couple of times, gulping loudly before he murmurs his next few words. “They do. Tomorrow is their day.”
My father’s lips curve up into a grin. “You know they were both going behind your backs, right?”
Prisma stands for the first time since any of this started and leans over the table, pressing her palms against it. I watch her. She appears different, pissed off instead of cool and collected. She doesn’t want to be betrayed. She doesn’t like it. I can get down with that. We don’t like it either.
“What do you mean they were going behind our backs?” she grinds out.
My father has his in. He knows now what her trigger is. It’s the same as ours. Betrayal and fucking with money. Because at the end of the day, those are the only things that can really fuck over a business.
