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I knew this guy wasn’t though. He didn’t have those connections. He was just a rich bastard who found joy in the pain of others. Especially by the sounds of it, women. I had to fight my natural instincts which wanted to walk right up to him and punch him in the fucking throat and then cut his dick off. Instead, I followed Romeo out of the elevator with my shoulders back, trying to act casual. As casual as you can be when you’ve entered the lion’s cage at feeding time.
“Isiah,” Romeo greeted, taking his hand in a strong and confident shake.
Isiah beamed down at my brother like he was a long, lost friend, which made me feel slightly uneasy.
How close were these two?
Was there something that Romeo wasn’t telling me?
Nerves started to swirl in my stomach, questions shooting around my head, and my muscles suddenly feeling like they were preparing to run.
No.
I needed to fucking trust him. This was his world, this was his home. He knew what he was doing. I’d grown to realize that with Romeo, it was all about putting on a mask and being whoever you needed to be to get through whatever situation you are in. I’d watched him so easily speak about killing Isiah with his bare hands on the way here, to smiling and greeting him like they played poker together once a week and traded stories about their underworld accomplishments. He chose to play a part, and that’s exactly what I needed to do myself.
I was here to help him find Eliza. I promised I’d do that, and me freaking out right now wouldn’t do either of us any fucking good.
“Isiah, this is my friend, Cooper,” Romeo spoke up, drawing my attention as he held his hand out indicating me.
I pushed my shoulder back and lifted my chin, stepping forward. “Heard a lot about you,” I noted, trying to act nonchalant.
His eyes moved over me.
We’d decided not to go with a suit, and stick with jeans and a button-down shirt. I felt more comfortable that way, and more like I could just be a badass version of myself rather than some stupid ass businessman.
“I heard you had a smart mouth with one of my guys downstairs,” Isiah noted, tilting his head slightly as if he was waiting to see if I would stand by what I said or drop my balls and apologize and try to suck up.
It was a test.
I knew it was and by the way Romeo’s finger was twitching. He knew it was too.
“Baldy tattled on me because I was mean to him?” I laughed. “Seriously?”
There were a few seconds where all I could hear was my heartbeat in my ears. I was pretty sure everyone in that fucking room could hear it, and it was going to be the last sound before five semi-automatic machine guns riddled me with fucking bullets.
Then Isiah cracked a smile. “You know, Romeo, you could learn a lot from your friend here.” Isiah grinned, stepping up beside me and patting me on the back. “You need not to take life so seriously. Come on, let’s have a drink, then we can discuss business.”
Isiah and a couple of his men lead us into another room. It was pristine—so much so that I wondered whether it was all just for show.
One of the bodyguards moved over to a small sidebar while we made ourselves at home on a couple of large leather armchairs which appeared like they were straight out of a sixties gangster movie.
We were there for less than a couple seconds before Isiah—not the type of man to fuck around—got straight to business. “What can I do for you tonight?”
The guard popped open some cupboards and pulled out three short glasses and some scotch. Even from here I could tell it was the expensive kind. The kind that you couldn’t buy in any store, the kind that came straight from the brewer.
“Cooper’s looking for someone,” Romeo explained, nodding to me to continue.
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out an old photo Romeo had managed to dig up. “I’m looking for a young girl that I heard you bought a couple years ago,” I told him, reaching out and handing him the picture. Eliza was pretty. That was really the only word I had to describe her because she just looked so damn innocent. I felt wrong using anything more than that. “She was promised to me, and the asshole sold her out from under me before I could get her.”
Isiah’s eyes were narrowed on the photo, his lips pursed. He took the glass of scotch offered to him while he continued to examine the photo. He lowered it as he took a sip of his drink. “I’d like to know how you knew she was sold to me.”
We didn’t.
We were guessing.
A glass was placed in my hand, and I tightened my fingers around it.
I wasn’t a part of his circle. I wasn’t meant to know anything. Especially not which girls he’d bought, or the fact he’d bought them at all. I fought the urge to nervously clear my throat. Instead, forcing myself to take a large drink of scotch. It burned all the way down but cleared the airways free.
