Page 42 of Pretty Lies

NINE

“THAT’S NOT GOOD,” Cory said aloud, his attention switching from one conversation to something else entirely all in a single second.

The stripper on the platform in front of his current position in a corner booth continued working the pole as though he’d shown her any attention in the last half hour that she’d been dancing for him. Not that he had been watching her.

She wasn’t his job.

The thing about Cory, though?

He liked to multitask.

He might be working, but he also had a whole life outside of the Outfit’s business. Not to mention an entire family that demanded more of his attention than he could sometimes give. Which was why when Della finished her meeting with the strip club owner and then didn’t move from her table like she planned to enjoy the drink in front of her, Cory figured it was safe to call his mother for a chat so that she wouldn’t leave a million messages in his inbox complaining that he wasn’t around enough.

He wasn’t sure he made the right choice.

The guy that just walked through the door?

Yeah, Cory knew that fuck.

Being privileged enough to walk the streets with one of the men running them meant Cory was given front row access to the way the underbelly of Chicago was really ran. Or for that matter, the people who made it all work.

It wasn’t just the Outfit.

The city was full of smaller gangs that battled for different territory to deal drugs, control, and more. Generally, the Outfit supplied said gangs in one way or another. However, that was simply in the business of trade. As long as no trouble was made, everybody was cool.

That’s how this shit was done.

So, when Luis Ruiz came into the club, Cory knew exactly who that asshole was. Not just because of his work on the streets, however. Small-time gang leader who made decent coin, and kept a small crew of guys to do a lot of his up close and personal dirty work. Probably the same crew of men that entered the club with Luis.

Which wouldn’t be concerning and didn’t immediately make Cory think they were going to have a problem. It was when Luis walked across the floor of the club with a gaze and grin that said he recognized Della as she stood from her chair at his approach which did.

Cory got fucking concerned, too, when Luis came close enough to reach for Della, and the man’s hand cupped the side of her face and neck with a possessive touch that spoke of familiarity between the two. Affectionate history. Not that his hand stayed there long before Della grabbed Luis’s wrist with a single word clear on her lips as fire burned in her gaze.

“Don’t,” she’d told him.

She didn’t let him go, though. Or rather. Luis had reversed the hold so that he had her wrist, now, and held it between them so she couldn’t step back. Della didn’t look the least bit afraid.

Strangely, Cory found himself annoyed that someone had touched her and pleased as fuck that she had no problem telling a man to keep his hands off. Problem was, he had more important things to deal with than what his fucking cock was trying to get up to.

Cory’s brain raced to catch up to whatever he missed—he knew he’d missed something big—when he remembered to get his mother off the phone.

Yeah, definitely not going to be good.

“What’s not good?” came the sweet, familiar voice in his ear.

“I gotta go, Ma—work.”

Lily sighed in the Bluetooth. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks. The very least you could do is make time to talk to me on the phone, Cory.”

“That’s why I called—”

“I’m going to talk to Damian about this.”

Jesus H. Christ.

“Ma, I love you, but I gotta bounce. Sorry—don’t tell Dad.”

He hung up the phone before Lily could say a thing otherwise. He’d pay for that later, but right then, he had the better idea to snap a photo of the scene across the strip club. He swiped right on his screen, taking the picture to his messages before sending it off to someone who might be able to tell him exactly what the fuck was going on.