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Con looks at his shoes. “I might have pushed her into her room when the Accandis arrived, as you instructed.”
“And then she bitch slapped him.” Arthur looks amused at his brother’s misfortune.
I crack a smirk. “I see. I’ll gather her when it’s time,” I instruct calmly. I forced her out of school and demanded she remain in the penthouse until I arrived. The girl is pissed and showing it. If anything, tonight should prove to be entertaining.
“Yes, sir.” Relief floods both men’s faces and this one time I don’t blame them for not wanting to face my step-daughter’s wrath.
I hand my briefcase to Arthur and work my tie loose. It’s been a long day and the worst part of it hasn’t even started. I mentally run through my plan one last time.
I remove my suit jacket and lock down my emotions before I turn from my foyer. Years of being forced to hide my true thoughts makes shutting down feel like second nature to me.
A head of black hair turns in my direction when I walk through the archway and make my presence known. Waves of irritation slam into me and I brush them off. This war has cost both of us the lives of our men, personal property damage and ultimately earning the law’s bitter touch. We can’t afford to let emotions take over here.
“Mr. Irons. I was about to leave if you had us waiting any longer. I’m being told you like to leave people waiting. I’m not into games, Irons.”
Accandis hasn’t learned that lesson yet it seems.
I wave off his icy tone. “Don’t believe every rumor you hear, Accandis. You know how it is. There were a few unhappy customers at the casino is all,” I lie. Keeping the other side off-kilter and wondering makes for easier negotiating, I’ve found.
A man a couple of inches shorter and about a decade younger stands from a leather chair in the middle of my spacious penthouse. There are couches scattered here and there. A dining table and through the sliding doors is a covered stairway to my expansive terrace. But instead of enjoying the view from up there, the mafia man with a large chip on his shoulder opted for the most uncomfortable chair in the middle of the room. He wants me to know he isn’t afraid. His arrogance will get me what I want tonight.
My lips peel back into a welcoming smile he thinks is genuine.
What a fool.
Accandis senior extends a hand, and I do the same. He has a tight grip that matches mine. He has a flair for the dramatic if his 50s sideburns and Elvis Presley pompadour are anything to measure him by. His sons seem to have better taste at least. Their sharkskin suits and polished shoes go well with the fresh haircuts and shaved chins.
“Is the girl here?”
I turn my hard gaze on the boys pushing off the couch to stand at their father’s side. They look the part of powerful mafia men, but their baby faces and lack of patience give away their inexperience. Maybe James is right about this all being a bad idea.
“Your sons, I presume?” I say stiffly.
“They are tired of waiting as I am, Irons. Let’s get this done with.”
I gesture toward Con who places a contract on the table. “You’ve read over my terms?” I had three lawyers work for as many months to draw up something that would lock us both in once our names are on the paper. Neither of us can do a single deal without the other knowing nor can we forge alliances that make the other stronger without the deal including us both.
I’ve lost one too many men to the Accandis doing dirty deals in my territory. That ends today.
He nods. “I have.”
“It doesn’t matter what Father has to say here.” The Accandis son with black hair, blue eyes and looks to be the older one stands. The little shit lifts his chin like I’m supposed to be intimidated. “I want to see the girl I’m going to marry. If she’s not worth being by my side, I’m walking. Whatever is on the contract doesn’t matter if I don’t want the girl it’s tied to. We can all stop wasting our time already. I don’t see why Father thinks we need a truce to begin with.”
“You’ll do as you’re told.” The boy’s father looks as tired as I feel. I know why he wants this truce as much as I do. Death is coming for us and we would like some years of peace before that happens.
But part of me isn’t bothered by the mental flashes of the man-child dead in a dumpster by the end of the night. By my hands.
Instead of furthering this war, I raise a hand and gesture for my guests to join me at the table.
“Oh, I’m worthy. In fact, you are the one who doesn’t deserve to be at my side.”
We all turn to see a raging beauty snarling in our direction. I say nothing at first. I merely stare back at her. Livid emerald eyes connect with mine. If she could kill me where I stand, my twisted heart would already be a lump of dead muscle on the floor.
I’d die happily, too. Fuck, she’s beautiful in ways no man deserves to own.
A hand comes up and an accusatory finger jabs in our direction. “You four don’t have the balls to include me in your little negotiations, I see. Rude. The least you can do when you want to pawn someone off for the benefit of your purse strings, is let them know the terms and conditions.”
She takes a step in our direction. Accandis’ son murmurs something about breaking angel wings and my vision turns red. He puts a hand on her in violence and I’ll cut it off with a dull butter knife. Watching him suffer would be a great pleasure in my life.
