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“That’s none of your business.”
“You are in my establishment, wanting to take one of my employees. Sounds like it’s my business now.”
“How much do you want? Name your price.”
“Delilah is not for sale.”
“Just tell me what you want.”
“What I want is for my son to be alive, but that is not possible, no thanks to you.”
“Nash brought it on himself. They took it too far, and you know it.”
“Nothing you say is going to change my mind. I want Delilah to work here for me like she is contracted to do.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
His grin widens as he pulls a stack of papers from his desk drawer. “Her father sold her to me, and Delilah signed. It’s a done deal. She is working here until I don’t see her value anymore.”
Without a word, I grab the papers from the desk and read over the contract, which I’m hoping is fake. My stomach sinks further with each paragraph I read. To my disappointment, it seems to be real. In our world, at least. Obviously, something like this won’t ever be legal in mainstream society, but it is very much binding in the world we live in.
“You know I’ll find a way to get her out of here.”
“And until you do, I’ll enjoy every second knowing that I have something you want.”
I slam my fist into his desk with such force that Nathaniel jumps off his chair and steps back. The lamp sitting on the table still shakes when the door bursts open and two guards storm in.
“Everything okay, boss?” one of the goons asks.
“Yes, yes. Mr. Diavolo was just leaving.”
“No. I want to see her. I’m not leaving without seeing her.”
“I’m afraid Delilah is busy working tonight.” Nathaniel can barely contain his joy about rubbing this in my face.
My anger is also barely controlled. My patience dangling on a tiny string, about to rip and unleash the monster hiding beneath my skin. “Listen, fuckface. You might have the upper hand here, but we both know what would happen if I don’t return to my brother in one piece. So sit your fat ass down, tell your meathead goons to get lost, and bring me Delilah. Now.”
That finally has Nathaniel’s smug face falling. The corners of his mouth turn down, and a vein on his forehead begins to pulse angrily.
“I’ll tell you what. If you want to see her so badly, be my guest, but you’ll have to pay her hourly rate. It’s one fifty for an hour.”
“I’ll pay for the whole night.” Pulling my wallet out, I pull a wad of hundred-dollar bills from it and throw them on Nathaniel’s desk.
“Thanks. I gave you a special rate, of course. Normally, I only charge fifty an hour.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you normally do. If you let anyone else touch her, I will do to you what Quinton did to Matteo.” There is no way he knows the details, but he knows enough to be threatened.
Nathaniel forces a smile, the vein on his forehead still looking like it’s about to burst. “Tommy, will you show Mr. Diavolo to Delilah’s room.”
“Sure, boss.”
“I will be seeing you soon, Nathaniel. Very soon,” I promise before spinning around and following Tommy down the hall.
I don’t know how this night will end, but I know one thing for sure. Nathaniel Brookshire is living on borrowed time.
