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“What happened to these businesses?” I point my finger at both pictures, needing to ignore the feeling of doom that’s growing in the pit of my stomach. “Their sons were killed because the cult somehow found a way of inviting themselves in. Did they take over the business after that?”
Philippe hesitates, then takes out the documents and reads some of the text out loud. “...Accitan Consultancy filed for bankruptcy for their American Corp in 2020. The same goes for the other one.”
“So they weren’t successful.”
“Which is why they’re back.”
“So we believe,” Connor hums.
“Christ, I need another drink.” I get up from the couch and stomp toward the kitchen, my head swimming. I open the door and take out two cans of beer, and I toss one to Connor—that he catches without a sweat—before I drop back onto the couch.
“I’d like you to meet Manuel, our guy on the inside. He’safamilymember, but we arrested him on second degree murder. As I mentioned, he agreed to be our informant and in exchange, we keep him out of prison. He’s not particularly helpful, but for now, he’s our only source of information on their whereabouts. Heworks as a bartender in a gay bar called Touché that operates as their connection to the outside world, so to speak. Be careful, despite its popularity, the place is a hornet’s nest. You’ll need to get closer to the heart of their family, if you want to identify who’s across the Atlantic taking out your people, so Antoine is pulling strings on getting you invited for their nextsoirée.”
I down half of the beer can in one go, but the alcohol doesn’t do anything to calm my restlessness. I don’t like this, not at all. “There’s no way we’re going anywhere without backup.”
“You’re right, but it’s too early for our forces to intervene. We’re still building our case and when we come, we want to make sure we get theInitiatorand his high-ranking puppets off the streets permanently. Information straight from the horse’s mouth and an invitation to one of their parties is the best I can offer for now.”
“Where they’ll be doing hypnosis and shit?” I’m definitely skeptical about that, not being one for mind-altering stuff, but when Connor gives me a challenging grin, I square my shoulders. “All right, sex evening it is, I can live with that.”
Neither reacts to that,of course. Philippe moves to put the files back in his briefcase, a blank look on his face, like we haven’t just decided that we’re moving into enemy territory without any fucking protection.
“Great. Manu will be expecting you tonight at nine o’clock. Make sure you get there on time so that he can safely escort you to the VIP room that is frequently visited by thefamily. Make sure you cut to the chase and keep a low profile, right?”
“Understood,” we hum at the same time.
Philippe stands and I swallow a huff when he pulls in Connor for a brief hug and a soft, “Take care.” Then he’s at the door and turns to face me. “No offense, but Manu will only talk to Connor. First and foremost, I’m an ally to the Donnellys.” In the doorway, he turns one last time. “I can’t stress this enough, but be sure they don’t evenlookat you. When you see Manu, order a glass of American sparkling water.”
Chapter 10: Connor
“A glass of American sparkling water?Sorry, is it me, or is that like, the worst code word I’ve ever heard? That doesn’t even exist.” Ilet Austin’s usual sarcasm pass by me with a shrug, instead, focusing on the cool wood of the door my head is leaning against. It helps to ground my swirling mind, because my thoughts are definitely in overdrive.“Don’t forget that they’re all speaking English because of us. Whatever works, right?”
He huffs, then mumbles somethingunintelligible, and I allow myself to watch him stomp through the room with a small smile. He’s visibly agitated, though I can’t seem to find out why. Though I shouldn’t care because I’ve got plenty of work anyway.After months of research, it feels weird to know that we’ll be heading directly into the territory of our rival. Austin’s right about one thing: it’s madness to go anywhere without as much as my reassuring shadow behind me, but I’m not willing to back down now.
My fingers are trembling with the need to hold my camera, and I can practically feel the leather of its strap safely curled around my wrist. I’m in desperate need to filter all these emotions that are whirling through my body and mind like a hurricane. A need to close off from the world and retreat into my own safe space. But there’s no time. In a few hours, we’ll be heading out to meet Manuel.
The flicking sound of a lighter followed by a deep inhale fills the room like a whisper, and I whip my head around to the source of the sound. I frown at the sight of Austin, holding a joint in his hand. “Since when do you smoke?”
He lets out a long exhale, his sinful lips open and inviting and shrugs. “I don’t. But I always have a joint or two with me when I’m on the road, for when I need it.”
“For when youneedit?” I echo with a taunt.
“For when I feel like it, whatever. Have it your way. Come here.” He rummages through the cupboard and walks toward the balcony with the joint dangling between his lips, an ashtray in his hand. “I figured that right now is one of those moments, don’t you think?” He opens the window, then straddles the frame, before taking another drag. As he’s staring outside, its herbal scent floats my way, and I find myself moving toward it. Toward him.
Austin turns to face me and my eyes fall on the sleeve of tattoos on his arm. “I didn’t know you had ink.” It’s a big fat lie, because I remember obsessing about it in college, dreaming about the coincidence that we both have a thing for knives. Although it is the first time that I’ve taken a closer look at the circled V.
“Really?” He uses that same arm to pass me the joint and I can feel him smile because I’m visibly struggling to tear my gaze from it. It looks sexy on him. “I don’t usually smoke,” I murmur, then place the joint between my lips and imitate his position, straddling the window frame. We’re now facing each other curiously, one leg dangling outside, the other one planted on the kitchen floor.
“That so?” His head is tilted back against the glass as he eyes me from behind a hooded gaze, his dark eyes focusing on my every movement, making me painfully aware of my awkwardness. When I don’t speak, he mutters, “Come on, you can ask.”
“Is—does that tattoo represent something?”
“It does.” He takes another drag and lets my gaze unabashedly zoom in on his curled lips, shaped into a ring. My cheeks warm at the sight and he lets out an amused snort. “The Void has three leaders.” His voice is low, a bit hoarse from the joint, and has me looking back at him. “My father, whom you met, and his two brothers, my uncles.”
I listen while I stare outside where the unattractive view of deteriorated houses seems to jab at us with an air of hostility, questioning our presence here.
“My father wants me to take over, being the oldest son and all that. I get it, but objectively speaking, Ro would make the better leader. He’s honest and good. A motivator and someone with vision.”
“And you aren’t?” Taken aback by my own curiosity, I bite my lip. I want to tell him to ignore my question, but he beats me to it with an answer.
