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“Guest?” I’d assumed he’d gone out because the hacker kid had arrived, but clearly, it’s someone else.
“Yeah.”
“Who is it?” I step out of the office and look past Antony, but I can’t quite see the foyer.
“Landon Stark.”
I feel a chill run up my body. I’ve never met Landon Stark, but his reputation for being ruthless and having a lust for brutality is well known. He’s one of the primary trainers for death-match tournaments organized for the entertainment of the stupidly rich and bored. If rumors are to be believed, he used to participate in the matches himself and still trains fighters for Joseph Franks in Seattle.
“Landon Stark is here?” I lower my voice quickly. “In our house? Why?”
“I don’t know, but shit’s going down in Seattle, and Stark has questions about…well, he’s asking about those documents I made.”
“You made documents for his son, the one who won that tournament up north.”
“Yeah, that’s the guy—Sebastian Stark. He wanted documents in Landon Stark’s name.”
With everything else going on over the last couple of months, I’d completely forgotten about this particular transaction. In theory, we are immune to any fallout from producing fake identities. It’s the only way we can do business with all of the families without someone getting pissed about something and causing disruption to everyone else’s needs. Our work is supposed to be untouchable, but I can only hope Landon Stark recognizes that.
“Holy fuck. How does Stark know about that?”
“I have no idea. I can’t tell if he’s pissed off or just generally a grumpy, old dude. He’s not known for being a nice guy, that’s for sure.”
“Did you tell him you made them?”
“I didn’t deny it. Either way, he said he wants to talk to you.”
“Fuck!” I take a few deep breaths. As much as I want to wash my hands of this whole operation, I can’t leave Antony to fend for himself. Blood relative or not, Antony has been beside me my entire life, and I won’t abandon him now. “Let me get everyone out of the office, then you bring him there. Offer him a drink or whatever. I’ll join you in a minute.”
I step back into the office and usher everyone into the sitting room. Nora’s eyes go wide when I tell her who’s come to visit us, and I leave her to explain it to Cherry while I meet with Stark. I take a minute to compose myself as Antony escorts Stark into my office. After a few deep breaths, I go back to the office where I find Landon Stark sitting in my chair behind the desk.
“Mr. Orso?” He stands as I enter the room.
“I’m Nataniele Orso, yes.” I walk over to him, ignoring where he’s chosen to sit, and offer him my hand. “Pleased to meet you in person.”
“I need a few moments of your time,” he says, looking directly at Antony as he retakes my seat, “alone.”
“Of course.” I give Antony a nod, and he closes the door behind him.
“You’ve heard about Joseph Franks.”
“Just now, yes.” Stark makes no move to get out of my chair, and I don’t know if I’m supposed to sit on the couch or just stand here. I also have no idea if I should offer condolences or not, so I stay where I am and say nothing else.
“Seattle is in an u
proar. It was clearly a calculated hit, but the only one with that kind of skill is supposed to be dead.”
“Moretti’s hitman.” I nod, glad I at least had some information so I don’t sound completely clueless.
“I was there at that tournament,” Stark says, “and Evan Arden never made it back from the arctic. Hell, my own fighter barely made it out, and he was practically in pieces. Shortly after his recovery in the hospital, Bastian Stark came here to retrieve certain documents for himself”—he pauses for a long moment—“in my name.”
Another shiver runs down my spine, and I do my best to keep my face expressionless. I don’t want to show my absolute terror of the man in my chair, but all I can think about is that I have a soon-to-be wife and child to protect, and I can’t do anything that gets me killed and leaves them left to fend for themselves.
“That is correct.” I see no reason to deny what he clearly already knows. “We do business for all the families and their primary associates. We are under no obligation to disclose the particulars of those transactions.”
“Let me be crystal clear here, Mr. Orso,” Stark says as he leans forward on the desk, “I’m not here to blame you for anything. I knew about Sebastian getting those documents in my name, and I don’t care. He isn’t responsible for this, and neither am I. However, it has created a vacuum in the Seattle area, and if information about those documents were to reach the wrong people, it could compromise my position in the network. I need to know that information will not leave your control.”
I hold in a sigh of relief and give him a slight nod.
