Continuing with our ploy of deception, Landon thrusts his hand toward mine. “Landon.” When I accept his gesture, he adds on, “I’d say the pleasure is all mine, but we both know that would be a lie.”
A smirk tugs at my lips when he squeezes my hand. His firm hold displays what I’ve always known: he doesn’t care who you are or how dangerous you appear, his family comes before anyone.
Good. Justine is carrying my family, and the more people she and our baby have on their side, the better. Landon isn’t on my team, but he isn’t my enemy either.
“Is everyone here?” Justine steps into the foyer. Although the house she grew up in was sold to fund Maddox’s legal expenses, their temporary abode still has a homey feel to it. The Walsh kids may not have been raised here, but someone’s kids were.
“Yeah.” Landon opens the door wide enough for me and the six men behind me to enter. “Dad cancelled his next three flights; Mom is between jobs, and Sebastian flew in yesterday afternoon. Celebrations ran late. I’m only just falling.”
I try to hide my smirk at Landon’s grimace, but it curls my lips too quickly for me to shut down. His whitening gills show he is in desperate need of some hair of the dog.
“Mom set up your room for you and. . .” Landon nudges his head at me instead of saying my name. “Her study has a cot for Roman.” Roman smirks like a smug fuck, pleased he was addressed by name. “And the den looks like a bunker for the remainder of your entourage.” This comment is more for me than Justine—as is his sneer.
“And the men I sent here this morning, where are they?”
Recalling that Landon isn’t a member of my crew—yet—I keep my tone friendly. He’s adamant no amount of money will ever have him siding with a man like me, but I’m a stubborn fuck who refuses to back down. Everyone has a price; I just haven’t worked out what Landon’s is yet.
Landon scrubs the stubble on his chin, barely concealing its frantic tick, before jerking his chin to the left. “Half of them are in the den; the other half are on watch outside.”
When I shift my eyes to Justine, she hears my words before my mouth delivers them. “My room is upstairs, third on the right. I’ll meet you there once you’ve updated your men.”
She presses her lips to mine. The sugary syrup her pancakes were slathered in flavors our kiss.
I’ve barely sampled half her mouth when she withdraws from our embrace. I’m not happy I’m being denied a taste I’d kill for, but since we’re surrounded by my crew, I let it slide. My men are horny fucks who would feel not an ounce of shame using my exchange with Justine to relieve tension while they’re without their whores.
Justine rolls her eyes when I demand for Roman to shadow her to her room before calling it a night. She doesn’t give me any lip, though. She’s aware anywhere she goes Roman goes.
Justine is barely out of earshot when Landon grumbles, “Is this really necessary?”
“Yes,” I answer without pause. “If your sister’s scars aren’t proof enough, the events you witnessed during my last visit should clue you in.”
Without men on hand for the negotiation I forged with Dimitri to have Justine’s debt forwarded to me, and needing to keep my relationship with Justine out of the limelight, I sought help from someone I knew would protect her as honorably as me.
One of her brothers was an obvious choice.
Sex trafficking isn’t for the weak at heart, but Landon took it in stride. He didn’t flinch when he saw the amount of money I was leaving on the table from allowing Dimitri to run a west coast prostitution operation without paying distribution rights to the Popov entity. I’m not talking a small seven-figure amount. It was well into the high eights.
The only time his gills got a little green was when he saw a name scratched on the bottom of an old transfer form from years earlier. Katie O’Neill. Her name was most likely an alias, but Landon’s whitening cheeks and dilated pupils had me taking note of her sale documents for future exploration.
My search didn’t produce many results. Most of the documents after Katie’s sale were heavily blacked out. She either got snagged by the FBI, or her buyer didn’t want anyone tracking her down. With how pedantic men in my industry are at keeping their virginal whores hidden from their wives, I’d say it was the latter.
Not waiting for Landon to show me the way, I head in the direction he nudged earlier. “Is Dimitri aware of my arrival?”
I can’t see Landon, but I can picture him shaking his head when a whoosh sounds through my ears. “But I’m certain he’s aware of Maddox’s impending release. His crew’s presence in Hopeton has doubled the past month.”
My teeth grit. I was hoping the agreement we reached last year would have kept Dimitri out of this, but clearly it was just garnish on his already overflowing plate. I’m not shocked. Greed is a major part of my industry, but that doesn’t mean I’ll take Dimitri’s disrespect sitting down.
My steps into the den stop when an accented voice mocks, “For a man who flies all over the world, your geographical knowledge is shit.”
When a pair of icy blue eyes stray to mine, my hand slips into the back pocket of my jeans. The blade of my knife is cool compared to the fury raging through my body from spotting Dimitri sitting across from Gavril, my number four-ranked soldier.
A hopeful smirk lifts my lips when Dimitri’s goon sizes me up. It’s the same fool who learned the hard way what happens when you disrespect myAhren.I can only hope the large diamond-shaped scar on his hand doesn’t have him cowering away. It’s been weeks since I’ve killed, and my urge is at its greatest. One wrong word, one wrong move, or even so much as a wrong swallow will have my knife getting friendly with his neck.
My hope for a bloody evening is dashed when Dimitri demands for him to wait outside. When the tatted up hothead fails to immediately jump to Dimitri’s demand, Gavril helps him see sense. He’s tossed to the curb in under ten seconds, his removal coming with the loss of three teeth.
After taking in a blood-stained tooth discarded halfway down the hall, Dimitri returns his eyes to me. “He’s lucky I don’t pay him for his looks.”
“Then what are you paying him for? It can’t be his smarts.”
