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“Zara, do yourself a favor and listen to my son. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here, and he could very well keep you alive.”
Jesus, dad, why don’t you just all out threaten her? I keep the question to myself, and Zara offers him her hand. Instead of shaking it, Jamie lifts it and kisses the back. “Pretty girl,” he murmurs before turning to walk away.
When we’re alone again, I turn and face her, putting both hands on her shoulders.
“How did you come to be hired by my cousin?”
“That’s confidential.”
I tuck a hand under her chin and glare. “Listen closely, Zara, because I’m only going to say this once. We’re about to go someplace where I’m in charge. Not my father, not the NYPD, me. I will get the answers to my questions one way or another. I won’t hurt you unless you give me a reason to, but I am going to go through your life with a fine-toothed comb. If I have to talk to your other clients, I will. My contacts run deep, and you don’t want to cross me. So, if you want these next two weeks to be pleasant for you, you’ll answer my questions quickly and fully. I don’t tolerate liars and I don’t tolerate brats. Now tell me how my cousin found you to hire you.”
Zara stares at me, and I figure she’s weighing her options. I’ll give her a few minutes to process this for now, but eventually, my patience will wear thin.
Finally, she takes a deep breath and says, “another client recommended me to him.”
“Who?”
I fold my arms and fix my deadly stare on her.
“I can’t tell you that. Not just won’t. I can’t. It’s a high-profile person, and we both signed NDAs. He could make my life hell if I reveal his identity.”
“Then I’ll just start making calls to everyone in your phone.”
It’s an idle threat. I’m not a complete monster, but hopefully she hasn’t realized that yet.
“I’m not going to tell you his name, but you could ask Oliver. He’s not bound by any such agreements. And I will tell you, that he was told to bring a date tonight and to make sure whoever he brought… fit in. It sounded like the order came from someone he feared.”
My father is the only person I can think of who he would fear.
Zara is observant. I appreciate that about her. But it also means I have to be careful.
I nod and turn toward the jet. High Card bought it a year ago to bring in ultra-VIP members who needed a little something extra to make their dues worthwhile. The bedroom on the plane was outfitted with a number of enhancements for extracurricular activities.
My brain couldn’t help but go to visions of Zara tied to the bed while I use everything in the toy kit on her. I’m not even one for using a lot of toys during sex, but with Zara I could explore a little.
I’m going to have to stay away from her once we get to Vegas. That means I’ve got the next six hours in the air to grill her and get all the information I need out of her.
On the plane, Zara looks around. She’s not impressed, but I didn’t expect her to be, considering she just charged me a hundred grand for her services for the week.
“This your father’s plane?”
I raise an eyebrow as I motion for her to sit. “No, Flower. It’s mine.” On paper, it belonged to my company and went hand-in-hand with my VIP limo service, so I’m not lying when I tell her it’s mine, but it’s used exclusively for High Card business. The four owners all have high-profile jobs in Vegas that afford us connections with the ultra-rich. We’ve brought a few of those people into our membership at the club. The jet proved to be a genuine selling point for those who like to live in luxury.
She opens the overhead compartment to find her overnight bag already stashed and pulls it out to dig through it.
When she’s got a sleep mask, her e-reader, and a pair of headphones, she puts it back and settles into the seat.
“I got the impression you’re not on the best of terms with your family, which is surprising since you’re the boss’s son.”
See? Observant.
“My father and I don’t see eye-to-eye. But I’m successful enough and helpful enough from Las Vegas that he lets me have my freedom for the most part.”
“Did you really shoot Oliver’s brother in the head, or was he just telling me that to scare me?”
I lean back and watch as she flips through screens on the tablet in her hand. “I’m sure he was trying to scare you, but it’s true.”
Her gasp is almost imperceptible. She hadn’t been expecting my blunt honesty. Which makes sense, considering she’s paid to keep secrets.
