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CHAPTER8
Valentin
Boom. Boom.
The goddamn music had already gotten on my nerves. I yanked out my keys, hearing but not listening to Brando attempting to provide the latest information he’d acquired. I knew he’d sent the invitation to Casimine, but at this point, I couldn’t be certain the man had accepted the meeting. Perhaps I was risking innocent lives in initiating our conversation at a busy club, but anything else could result in the start of a war.
I slipped my key into the lock, heading into the private section of the club holding several offices and additional storage space. I’d purposedly come in through the front door after searching the surrounding area to ensure there weren’t any of Casimine’s or Filip’s men waiting in an attempt at an ambush. While I had additional soldiers everywhere, the crazy fucking Pole could bring a tank in for all I knew.
When the majority of sound was blocked out as the private door was closed, I finally tuned into what Brando was telling me.
“There’s a lot of shit talk on the streets, Valentin.”
“Regarding?”
“The Poles are buying up real estate right and left, forcing the tenants to pay exorbitant fees.”
I headed into my office, hissing under my breath. One way or the other, I’d have to deal with Casimine.
“They’re throwing a pitch in the dirt, hoping we’ll play our hand, Brando. Nothing more.” I moved toward my desk, immediately flipping on the monitors. Cameras had become a necessity over the years, not only to provide advance warning of any enemies choosing The Raven as their party zone for the night but also to keep riffraff from destroying the safe reputation of the club. Tonight it would be used to provide additional advanced warning of any mystery guests.
I moved to the bar, making a quick drink then turning my attention to the screens.
“You’re not taking this seriously enough,” Brando accused.
“Brando. I learned a long time ago that patience can be a virtue. So can allowing others to play their games while I watch from afar.”
“Do you really think Casimine is going to show?” He half laughed.
“No, but he will send someone. If it’s Filip, then the night could become interesting.” I threw him a look, rewinding a few of the machines to double check who’d arrived before I’d come in.
“What did you decide to do about the woman?”
“She’s leaving tomorrow on an early flight. That’s what’s going to happen.” I’d checked on the information Brando had provided, including talking with a couple of associates. While I’d had limited time, what I’d found confirmed everything Brando had told me. She’d graduated from New York University with a degree in journalism, quickly leaving New York for a job opportunity in Indianapolis, lured to Chicago almost five years before where she’d worked her way up to being considered one of the most reputable news reporters in the Midwest.
What I hadn’t been able to find were details on her personal life. At least the girl was smart, hiding her address given her occupation. Unfortunately, she had no idea just how easy it was to retrieve almost any information desired. You could find anything for a price.
I wasn’t in the business of delving into her personal life. As long as she left town.
Fuck. As if I wanted her to.
I’d almost stopped by the hotel to take up where we’d left off. Snorting, I continued moving from screen to screen.
“My God. Fine. Do what you want.”
Whatever had crawled up his ass lately, he needed to handle it, or I’d be forced to do so and he wouldn’t like me very much if I did.
“How long do we wait?” he asked.
“As long as it takes.”
“Fucking fantastic.”
I ignored his comments, taking a swig of my drink. Then I paused the frame. What the fuck? I inched closer, rolling it forward very slowly. When the girl turned her face toward the camera, a snarl erupted from my throat.
“What the fuck is wrong?”
After throwing him a look, I tossed the remote on the desk, almost pitching my glass against the wall. Maybe Brando was right after all. “I have something to deal with. If any visitors arrive in my absence, put them in the storage area.”
