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Samson smirked. Did this guy think he’d buy that bullshit?
“Could’ve just asked Nick and me about it the other day. As I’m sure you know, we own this place too.”
“I wanted to check it out firsthand. I like to be hands-on when it comes to my recommendations.”
Interesting phrase after what Mamba just told him.
“Seems your interests are eclectic as well. Owning two profitable businesses—one legitimate, and one, not so much.”
Was that some kind of a fucked-up threat?
“And what does any of this have to do with you?” Samson enjoyed the few inches he had on Monroe.
“As I said, I’m checking out this venue for—”
“Save the bullshit.”
The other guys in Monroe’s circle faded into the background until it was just him crowding Monroe against the side wall.
Rocco appeared at his side. “Everything all right, boss?”
“Yeah, just having a private conversation with a friend.” Mamba glared at Monroe, and Rocco took a few steps back but stayed close.
“I think it would be in your best interest to take this place off your list ofvenuesalong with Club Wicked 'cause us doin’ business with you or anyone associated with you is never gonna happen.”
“Fascinating you feel that way.”
Samson cocked his head. “Why’s that?”
“Because I understand you’ll be doing business with my future daughter-in-law.”
Samson narrowed his eyes as Monroe’s words filtered through his brain. “Daughter-in-law?”
“Lisbeth Evans, owner of Luxury Lifestyles by Lisbeth, is—”
“Your future daughter-in-law?”
Monroe had the balls to throw him a self-satisfying grin, and Samson fantasized about how he could wipe the smirk off Monroe’s smug face.
“Exactly, and since my son and my company were instrumental in giving her a start, I would say we’re all very much connected.”
Of all the things he expected Monroe to say, that wasn’t one of them. Did Lisbeth know her future in-laws were involved in this kind of shit? Was she in on it—was her soliciting his business and letting him come on to her all part of a grand scheme to hook him into their fucked up shit? Payback for what Samson did to her years ago? His brain struggled to process this screwed-up situation.
Samson’s phone buzzed, and he fished it out of his pocket. Nick. Shit, he saw at least four missed calls from him.
He swiped at the screen and put the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”
“I’ve been calling for you for the last ten minutes.” Nick’s impatience filtered through the phone, and Samson’s heart rate jacked up. “Where the hell are you?”
“At Valley View. The connection here sucks. What’s up?”
“Jax called. Major fuck up at the club. I’m leaving Ecstasy now, so meet me there.”
“On my way.” Samson ended the call and turned to Mamba.
“Change of plans,” Samson said to Rocco and Mamba. “Gotta head to Wicked. Some shit goin’ down.”
“You need backup?” Mamba asked.
