Putting the glass jar back in the box, I close it and slide it under my desk.
Tonight. My estate. I will be waiting.
Yeah, how about no.
I try notto work every day, but that’s very hard to do when you love what you do and really enjoy making money. As a result, I’ve never really been good at breaks. Plus, this is my business, and I want to do everything in my power to make it succeed. So no, I did not take his invitation, and I’m sure he’s not usedto people not following his commands. Even though today is supposed to be my day off, I still somehow pull up in the parking lot of the morgue. And immediately, I see the same car from two nights ago sitting in the very same spot.
Fucker. It’s only been one day, and I know he’s here expecting to collect the body. Right now would be the perfect time to just drive off, but confrontation has never bothered me. It’s something I’m actually good at. I know how not to escalate a situation and make it worse, though I can honestly say the man who steps out of the car right now seems to have the ability to get under my skin. And I’ve only met him once.
The sun hasn’t quite set yet, so when he opens his car door and steps out, I can see the annoyance plastered all over his face. And I bet, even behind those sunglasses, his dark sapphire eyes are narrowed and staring at me.
Taking a deep breath, I put my car in park and reach for my phone before I turn the engine off. He walks around to the driver’s side door as I step out of the car. His jaw is locked tight, but I can tell he’s itching to say something.
“We are closed today, even for you,” I tell him.
“Did you get my gift?”
I would never tell him how much I actually liked his gift. It’s quite remarkable, really. I wonder if he thought of it himself?
“Gift?” I ask him. “Oh, you mean the demand you made. Telling me I had to go to your house.”
I start to walk to the back door of my building, and he follows, his stride intentional and clearly not in the market for taking no as an answer.
“I have a proposition for you, which you would’ve found out if you had attended the meeting,” he grits, as if attempting to hide his disdain.
“I told you already—I do not work for you.” Pulling the door open, I go to let it shut behind me, but he puts his foot in,stopping it from closing. “You are also not welcome here,” I throw over my shoulder and look down at his impeccably shined boots. Gosh, I wonder if this man has anything out of place.
“Since you refused my invite, I have come here to request that you listen to me.”
I want to laugh at him. But I know better than that. Even if I find him obnoxious, I know there is only so far I can push a man with his power.
“Request…” I hum. Look at that, the monster’s trying to act like a gentleman.
“You deal in money; at least, that’s what is heard on the streets,” he says matter-of-factly. Don’t we all.
I turn back to look at him, and his jaw is still locked as if it’s made of steel, his sunglasses still on his head.
“Do you do all your dealings personally?” I ask him. I had heard he does not, so I’m surprised to see him. With the other crews, I don’t see their bosses all the time. I only see them when the person on my table is important. So who the fuck is that man to Silas for him to go so far as to hound me? They share the same last name, but that can mean anything in crime families like this.
“No, I have others for that,” he says, clearly annoyed with my questions and as if it was the most obvious answer.
“Okay, well, send another one of your men during business hours,” I say over my shoulder and offer a smile. It’s fake, and by the way his lips turn into a thin line, he knows it as well. I push through my door, walking through the reception and turning on the lights as I do, only to find him still following me. I stop when I reach my office and turn back to him. “This could be considered stalking, just so you’re aware,” I tell him. “So anything I do is in self-defense.”
“If you do as you’re told, you won’t have to use self-defense,” he grits, and I try my hardest not to laugh. Men like these are all the same. Despite his deadly reputation, he hasn’t yet attemptedto force me to do anything. I’ve heard he has a sister, and I wonder whether growing up with a woman means he treats women differently. Not that I’ll bet my life on it.
His gaze sweeps around my office, and when it does, his eyes drop to the floor under my desk, where the box he sent me sits.
“You kept it,” he says, as if he didn’t just subtly threaten me again.
“I haven’t had a chance to throw it out yet.”
“Don’t. I had it made especially for you.”
For anyone else, that might have sounded almost … thoughtful. I don’t let myself sit with that notion for long before he removes his sunglasses and fixes me with that dark, steady stare, his words continuing. “To show you your body parts can end up in there next.”
I roll my eyes. Not at the threat itself. At the fact he thinks it changes anything.
“Now,” he continues, like we’re not having two conversations at once, “are we ready to discuss business?”
