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“That other site was exactly what I thought. People weren’t bidding on coffee tables, if you know what I mean.”
I fucking knew it. Not only were they exploiting them on the website, they were fucking auctioning them off.
“I’m working on shutting that shit down, too, but it’s big, man. Real fucking big. How’d you guys do? Any luck finding the location?”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Yeah. I’ll tell you all about it over a beer later.”
“That good, huh?”
I leaned back in my chair, imagining Anniston on her knees in front of me, my hand in her hair, and tears in her eyes while I fucked her pretty mouth. My little rebel was like black tar heroin. I was never going to get her out of my fucking system. “Make it a bourbon.”
Carl Miller owned one of the largest commercial construction companies in New York. Any investor with brains called him when they needed something built.
My father owned a shit ton of real estate—commercial, residential, he had his hand in all the cookie jars. It was my life’s mission to out-own him. I already ran the underground. If I could buy up all the new properties, and maybe get my hands on some of the old, Dad wouldn’t be the king of New York anymore. I would.
I’d made a deal with Carl a couple of weeks ago. He set me up with his investors, so that I could eventually buy them out, and I gave him an extended line of credit for his poor choices in betting football games. Carl sucked. I mean, he even sucked at betting parlays. This was the deal of a lifetime.
So, when he showed up at my office this afternoon—with the mayor at his side—I was over the fucking moon.
“I was surprised to hear you’re giving your father some competition,” the mayor said as he took a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk.
And I was surprised you turned down my father’s invitation to The Induction.
I wanted to ask him why.
I didn’t.
The one rule of the Brotherhood was that no one talked about the Brotherhood. Especially since he wasn’t supposed to know I’d been eavesdropping on their conversation at the gala.
Carl sat in the other chair. He had a slight scar on his hand, but other than that, he seemed to heal just fine. Leo leaned by the doorframe with his hands in his pockets and his shoulder leaning against the frame.
“Guess I got tired of waiting around for my inheritance.” It was a twisted joke on my own behalf. As far as everyone other than me, Dad, and my mother knew, I was adopted. There would be no inheritance.
“I’ve been waiting fifteen years for someone to stand up to those assholes.”
I guessed that answered my question. Although it made me wonder exactly how much he knew. I glanced at Leo. He answered my look with a shrug.
I didn’t ask the mayor to elaborate, but he chose to, anyway.
“Where I come from, politicians can’t be bought. They aren’t selfish. They are servants to their community, not to their bank accounts.”
He must have come from a deserted island. He also must have hated Malcolm Huntington.
“And before you start thinking I don’t care about money at all, I should tell you I’m the investor you asked Carl to link you up with.”
I choked on my spit and damn near fell out of my chair.
He laughed, then stood up and offered me his hand. “It will be a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Carmichael.”
I stood and took his hand. “Chandler.” I smiled. “It’s just Chandler.”
The district attorney had been on my team since the first bet he ever placed with me. Helping me take down Malcolm Huntington sealed the deal. Now I had the mayor with me as well. Fuck yeah. Today was a good day.
I watched the numbers on the elevator panel light up, one at a time all the way to twenty-one, dreading the moment the doors would open and I’d stare into an empty penthouse. Never in a million fucking years did I think I’d miss her. I didn’t miss anyone. Not even Caspian when that pussy-whipped motherfucker played dead and moved away to a tropical island.
Twenty-one lit up.
The doors slid open.
