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I live in a ruthless dog-eat-dog world where it’s all about the survival of the fittest. Peter lives in the same fucking world as me, so there’s no reason why he wouldn’t pull off a stunt like that then wait it out for Evie to come of age and take her too.
But how does anyone prove all of that, and does it matter now that Peter’s tangled in the spider’s web?
I reach home late and find Henry on his laptop again. Today is the day when Peter is supposed to make the payment to Ricco.
From the look on Henry’s face when I walk in, I’m sure it’s happened already.
“He did it, didn’t he?” I ask, and Henry nods.
“That and more. I know what he and Xiou are up to.” He picks up a document from the table and comes over to me.
I take it when he gives it to me and scan over the contents. It’s a two-page document.
The first page is a fucking contract to use the services for the resort for auctions. Not the kind of auction Henry and I take part in where women enlist themselves for money.
What they’re arranging here is a human auction, where girls as young as twelve are sold for life as sex slaves. The second page is a copy of an email conversation between Peter and Xiou. It’s confirming the first batch of girls for sale in late September. That’s when all of Donny’s assets are supposed to be transferred to Peter.
The contract to use the resort as a hub for business is one million per year because the price of each girl is a million a head.
The fucking flesh trade.
That is what Peter is up to.
I might be a bastard who has a taste for the risqué side of life, but even I wouldn’t dabble in something like that. Most of the crime families in our alliance wouldn’t either because of the risk if the feds find out.
“Fuck, this just keeps getting better and better.”
“Do you want to call Donny, or should I?”
“I’ll make the call.”
* * *
Donny was on the next flight home, and by nightfall, we sat in his office in the city with three of his guards and two of mine.
Peter is supposed to be here any minute now.
Donny looks like he’s going to kill him. If Peter had pissed on one of the gods at Giordanos Inc., he wouldn’t be summoned back in the building. He would have been food for the fish already or ashes in one of the crematoriums.
Henry looks tense. He’s only seen a killing once before, and thankfully it wasn’t me who did it. It was Frankie, and it happened back in college at a frat party. There was an asshole there who’d been drugging and raping girls. We found out he’d done the same to one of our cousins, who was only in high school at the time but managed to get into a party on campus.
All Frankie did was get the guy out back and ask me to clarify his name.
I did, and that was it. Frankie put a bullet in his head.
Henry saw, and he was never able to look at Frankie the same way.
Death like that is where my world and Henry’s ends. We don’t talk about it, but every now and again, the paths cross over.
He glances at me when Peter walks into the room.
Peter looks around, and the arrogant as fuck smirk on his face recedes when Donny doesn’t return the smile.
“What’s going on, Donny?” Peter asks.
“Close the door and take a seat,” Donny replies.
Peter does what he’s told, and when he lowers to sit, he cuts me a sharp glance.
