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Six million.
One point five billion!
Holy shit, does this organization have a lot of money.
“The books don’t add up. I think someone has been padding the withdrawals and stealing from us,” he says. He points to something on the page. “See here? The numbers don’t add up.”
I add the two closest numbers he’s pointing to. They add up to equal the sum below it, so I’m not quite sure what he’s getting at, but he seems very worked up about it. So me saying the two numbers clearly add up doesn’t seem like the correct answer to give.
“Do you have any leads as to who could be doing this?” I ask.
“I have a general idea.”
“Do you have any evidence?”
“No.”
I toss the papers back to him. “Then get me some evidence.”
He grabs them and then disappears.
I take a bite of my omelet. My stomach welcomes the food in.
But I feel another pair of eyes on me. I look up.
“Yes?” I ask Odette.
“A politician from New York hired us to install the best security system at his home and yacht and to protect him for events for the past month. He hasn’t paid.”
Shit. My eyes cut to Enzo, who is chuckling lightly to himself at the panic in my eyes. He would off the politician too, wouldn’t he? To set an example, so our next clients ensure they pay.
“How much does he owe?”
“Twelve million.”
Twelve million! For some security? That’s crazy! How did I not know how much people pay us to protect them? Is our security system really that advanced compared to everyone else’s?
Enzo’s nails tap harder, watching the anxiety flow through my chest. What should I do? Should I just let him off? That would be fucking up for sure. They would have to choose Enzo over me at the next meeting for letting someone get away with stealing twelve million dollars for it. So I open my mouth to say just that, but instead I blurt, “Send someone to rough him up and send a message. But don’t kill him. He still owes us twelve million dollars.”
Odette smiles.
Enzo smirks.
Fuck, I’m turning into a ruthless leader just like him. And I don’t want to admit it but giving an order like that does something to my body. I feel warmer, a wave of energy pushes through me, and I realize immediately what it is—power.
Another man steps forward to get his orders from me. And this time, I sit up straighter, ready to handle the decision.
“We have to decide what we do about Surrender. Do we rebuild on the same site? Do we use another club as our headquarters? What do you want us to do?”
My shoulders slump. Surrender is just another of our countless assets, but I know it had a personal connection to Enzo. To his father. Enzo should be the one making this decision, not me.
But this time when I glance over at Enzo, he tells me nothing. The smugness is gone, his lips thinned into a line, his eyes blank, his throat tight.
“I’m not ready to make that decision yet. Get me more details on the costs of rebuilding and other options in the city for the headquarters.”
He nods and exits.
And then, I’m alone with Langston and Enzo.
