Page 140 of High Reward

“Leave it to the Serranos to break the rules we agreed on,” Owen mutters. “It’s a good thing we like you, mate. How do you want to handle this?”

“I don’t want to handle it. You do whatever you want,” I huff as I stare at my brother standing outside the car adjusting the buttons on his jacket.

Owen chuckles and crosses the room to Bellamy. He kisses her softly and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Call Luke and tell him that the Serranos broke protocol and are in the parking lot, so he will need to revamp the plan a bit and if possible, avoid pissing anyone off.”

Bellamy nods. “Yes, Sir. I’ll let you know when I’ve heard something.”

“Thank you, love.”

I’ve always enjoyed watching Bellamy and Owen together, and Tobias just adds to their dynamic. It’s full of respect and playfulness, but Bellamy would never disobey Owen unless she had a damn good reason. That’s the relationship they’ve built. To Bellamy, Owen is her God, and she worships him freely. Tobias gives her a more playful way to explore her kinky side, and he seems to enjoy getting her in trouble with Owen.

It takes forty-five minutes, but thanks to Matteo’s ability to soothe people, we settle everyone into the conference room without bloodshed.

Bellamy collects all cellphones and weapons and stores them in lockers usually reserved for club members to keep purses and phones during parties. My brother grumbles about giving up his weapons, and I order our security to pat him down extra well. Sure enough, we find a hidden pistol inside his boot.

“Really, Andres?” I say with a glare.

“You can’t blame me for not wanting to be unarmed around a Trentini. And the Bowdens would put a bullet in my head too.”

Jamie Bowden, who surprised all of us by saying yes to joining the summit just so he could see his daughter-in-law, Zara, pipes up with a grin. “No, we wouldn’t lad, but we might feed you to the dogs if given half a chance.”

Luke glares at his father, but the old Irishman seems to have smoothed my brother’s ruffled feathers with his sarcasm.

We’re waiting for Owen to arrive with Hunter Novak, as well as the itinerary for the meeting, at which point Bellamy will close the doors and wait nearby with a walkie talkie for one of us to summon her. Not even the four club owners could keep their phones. Which I hate.

Skylar and Zara are happy to not be part of this meeting, but Lili is a little put out that the only woman involved is Bellamy. But Bellamy has the added benefit of being from one of the principal families. Her cousin is here to represent the Harper family’s interests.

It takes another ten minutes for Owen to arrive with Hunter, and something tells me that was Hunter’s doing. Making an entrance has always been something he prides himself on. I just hope he knows how close these people are to killing each other.

He strides in ahead of Owen and doesn’t say a word as he settles into his designated chair, unbuttoning his expensive gray suit jacket as he sits.

Owen sets paper copies of the itinerary in front of each of the fifteen men sitting around the table, before placing a tablet down at his spot near the head of the table.

And now the summit has officially begun. So far, so good. I let out a slow breath as Owen speaks. We opted to let him take the lead because his family is on the friendliest terms with the rest of the attendees.

“Gentlemen, thank you for being willing to set differences aside to join us today to discuss a faction that impacts us all.”

“I don’t understand why Novak is here,” Andres grumbles.

“And we don’t understand why you’re here when you weren’t on the list, but we’ve accepted it and we’re moving on,” Owen says smoothly, in a tone that sounds like he’s swatting at an annoying fly rather than addressing a man so deadly he’s feared in all of Mexico.

But it works, and my brother shuts his mouth.

Hunter appears unaffected, studying the agenda laying in front of him.

“I’m going to ask that you all refrain from outbursts when it is not your time to speak. As you can see from the agenda, everyone will have ample time to express their opinions and viewpoints,” Owen continues.

The tension in the room is thick, but everyone remains silent. I keep a watchful eye on my father and brother, just as each of the others are keeping an eye on their respective family members.

We start with allowing my father to present what he knows of the Russians moving back into Las Vegas territory. It’s surprisingly well put together. Danny Trentini shifts uncomfortably in his seat as my father talks, his eyes never leaving the section of table where my family sits.

“We know the Russians do not play well with others. And we know they will not hesitate to kill innocent people. While I disagree with my youngest son that Las Vegas should be neutral territory, I do agree that the Russians must be stopped before they gain more ground.”

He sits, and Owen swipes at his tablet, changing the slide projected onto the wall to indicate who is currently allowed to speak. The slide changes from my father back to Owen. It feels like we’re in a middle school classroom rather than a high-powered summit of families who control most of the world’s drug flow and money laundering.

Owen asks a dozen questions of my father before moving to the next item on the agenda. Griffin Price.

Instead of my father, the name on the slide changes to Jamie Bowden.