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"Should we go and check if something’s wrong?" Lena asks.
I glance down at her. "Doyouwant to go and check if something’s wrong?"
"Nope."
"Me neither." I lower my head and brush my lips over hers. "I’d rather spend the time showing my girlfriend how much I’ve missed her."
21
JJ
"Did you hurt yourself?"
Michael Sovrano jerks his chin in the direction of my hand.
"No, I didn’t," I snap.
"It sure looks like you cut yourself, ol’ chap," Sinclair Sterling drawls from his position near the window of the conference room that adjoins my office at Kane Tower.
Oh, now they back each other up. For men who were once sworn enemies, I’d say I did a good job of bringing them together. When I revealed that the man I had spying on both Sinclair and Michael was none other than Antonio, they were gob-smacked. He was one of Michael’s men, whose life Sinclair and his friends had spared on the condition that he spy on Michael for them. And he was spying on both of them for me, for Antonio owed his loyalties to me. Sinclair and Michael were understandably pissed. Michael was the first to admit I beat them at their own game. Sinclair followed suit. They both then promised they wouldn’t harm him. Not that I was giving them a chance. I contacted Antonio and ensured him that he and his girlfriend Nina had safe passage to a country of their choice where they could live out their lives in anonymity. So, yep, I won this round.
Now, I glower at the both of them. “Told you, it’s nothing.”
"Oh, it’s something," Nikolai Solonik, the head of the Bratva, murmurs from where he’s lounging on the settee opposite me.
"If we’re done with this inquisition, can we get onto the business at hand?"
Michael chuckles. "Someone’s in a foul mood."
"Who’s in a foul mood?" a new voice asks.
I glance up as Hunter Whittington strolls in. His dark hair is perfectly coiffed, the shadow of his designer beard gracing his jaw. He’s wearing a three-piece pinstriped suit. Even though he’s in his mid-thirties, he dresses like someone who’s older. Someone with conservative tastes. Someone who has control tightly reined in. Someone who’s just announced his candidacy for the position of Prime Minister of the UK.
Michael and Nikolai fall silent. The expression on Sinclair’s features doesn’t change.
"I believe you know each other?" I murmur.
Sinclair nods. He rises to his feet and thrusts out his hand. "Councilor."
"Sterling." Hunter’s lips quirk. "I should have believed JJ when he said I wouldn’t regret making it to the meeting he set up today. Your new takeover is all over the business community."
"As is your announcement for candidacy." The two men grip each other’s hand for a second longer, then step back. Hunter turns to Michael.
"Sovrano. Your reputation precedes you. I hear you’ve been looking to invest in England?"
Michael tips up his chin. He doesn’t offer to shake Hunter’s hand. The councilor doesn’t seem put out by it.
"You do realize this meeting doesn’t mean you can bypass any checks and balances before you invest?"
Michael smirks. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
He turns to Nikolai. "The same goes for you, Solonik."
Nikolai tips up his chin. The two men engage in a staring match—something to be expected when you have multiple men with big egos in the same room.
"Gentleman, this is a safe space. It goes without saying that whatever is said between these walls stays here.”
There’s silence, then Hunter nods. So do Sinclair, Michael, and finally, Nikolai.
