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“Think you can handle it?”
“Without a doubt,” I reply, pulling the door open, ready to go train in the gym for a few hours.
“Good… Oh, and one last thing,” Carter says, just as his phone starts ringing. He looks at the screen, and punches the answer button asking the caller to hold for a minute. “I’ve booked Grim an appointment with Miranda at House of Imperials on Rathbone Street in a couple of hours so she can find something appropriate to wear for the party. I need you to go with her and make sure she doesn't end up choosing another whorish dress like she wore last night. Make sure Miranda knows to pick her out something sophisticated, know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, loud and clear,” I respond with a scowl, stepping out of Carter’s office before I do something stupid and get myself shot in the head for rearranging his face.
He might be my boss, but he’s still a fucking prick.
* * *
“Why are we here again?”Kate asks dryly, as we pull up outside House of Imperials, an upmarket clothing store for wives, daughters and mistresses of London’s most notorious gangsters.
“Carter wants you to pick out an outfit for the party he’s organising for you at Tales for your birthday.”
“Party?”
“Yep. Must be his way of apologising.”
“I don’t need a party or clothes for that matter, but a sorry would’ve been nice,” she replies guardedly.
“You and I both know that’s never gonna happen. Carter never apologises,” I say, putting the car in park and killing the engine.
“Did he mention to you anything about the King?”
“Yeah. He’s got contacts around Europe apparently, and has access to a bigger range of fighters. Together they want to make Tales the best fight club in Europe, or so he said.”
“We can bring in fighters ourselves, we don’t need the King’s help.”
“My argument exactly.”
“Carter didn’t listen to you, I take it?” she asks, sighing.
I shake my head. “No. He’s an impatient man and the King has offered him a way to get the club where he wants it to be quickly.”
“For what price?”
“A cut of the takings, of course,” I say.
“Of course.” She frowns, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“What?”
“I don’t trust him.”
She lets that statement hang in the air and I don’t try to counter her view because I don’t trust the prick either, and right now I’m having trouble trusting Carter as well. “Come on, let's get this over with,” I say instead.
“Do I have to?” she groans. “I’d rather stick my nose in Dom’s armpit after he’s been training for two hours.”
“The fuck?” I snap. Hell to the fuck no.
“What’s the matter, Beast? Are you jealous?” she asks, the seriousness of our conversation making way for amusement.
“Just get inside the damn shop,” I order, her laughter ringing in my ears as she climbs out of the car and strides towards the shop, my gaze following her jean-clad arse all the way inside.
The moment I enter House of Imperials, Miranda greets me with a flirty smile. “Good afternoon, Beast. So nice to see you again,” she says, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
“You too, Miranda,” I reply distractedly, casting my gaze around the store. It’s empty apart from Kate searching through a rack of clothing at the back of the shop. “Not busy today?”
